


Butcherbird

by awkwardedgeworth



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (death not shown), Blood and Injury, Cannibalism, Enemies to Lovers, Estranged Miya Twins, Force-Feeding, Inferiority Complex, M/M, Minor Character Death, Slow Burn, Tokyo Ghoul AU, Vomiting, background bokuaka and osasuna, death and dismemberment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:47:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26729932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardedgeworth/pseuds/awkwardedgeworth
Summary: Atsumu can hear the snapping of bones from here, his mouth dropping as Sakusa launches himself onto another person, taking them down. He sinks his teeth into an unsuspecting stranger's neck, the eye peeking out of his bangs glowing red.Atsumu watches on, frozen.The hunger of a ghoul is the worst thing on earth.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 248





	Butcherbird

**Author's Note:**

> heads up, it's a TG AU so there's a fair share of humans being eaten/attacked/the characters being physically injured quite a bit. there's also two scene where a character (offscreen) force feeds themselves and throws up, so proceed with caution
> 
> i had a thought of sakusa learning to trust ghoul atsumu and after several hours of talking with immune, i blacked out and had this in my hands.
> 
> ~~please do not look me in the eye, i know i should be updating jlmay but i'm stuck~~
> 
> edit: god u know what happens when you upload half asleep? forget to tag properly and link the song atsumu's singing (hozier's shrike). also endless thanks to immune. our brainrot powered each other's ideas and i will be forever grateful to you for cheering me on!

He pulls back, tucking her hair behind her ear, crooning, "Yer beautiful."

The girl blushes. Atsumu inhales the scent of blood pumping in her arteries, a heady, great rush that makes him feel alive. He could hear how fast her heart is fluttering, how the capillaries on her cheeks expand, bringing color to her skin.

He can pinpoint the exact moment she falls for him, he smiles into the kiss, skirting his hand below her shirt to press at her soft skin, her soft stomach.

"Beautiful," He breathes, swallowing her choked pain as he drives his hand through her chest, snapping her rib cage and wiggling his fingers through as he feels sticky warmth stain his clothes. She droops like a ragdoll as he tears her heart out, gently letting her body lean back on the park bench.

Raven hair, brown eyes, sun-kissed skin, biochemistry major. Sweet, slightly ditzy, he's been with this prey for two weeks now, opening his mouth and tearing into her heart.

He thinks about the shock the public will see the next morning, lifting her body up and glad that he has the rain to stifle the scent, heading over to the CCG Headquarters several blocks away behind some alleys.

Atsumu spears her body on the spiked gates outside the building, stepping back to admire his artwork covered in darkness and walks home, licking the blood of his fingers.

He and Osamu hadn't seen each other since the end of high school.

He's the type to purse his lips at Atsumu's lifestyle of hunting humans for fun. Atsumu has everything he could ever wanted within this oppressive life he's born into. Prey, a roof over his head in the form of a half-basement home he bought with the money from his day job, entertainment in the form of said prey-stalking and a face that's handsome enough to draw unsuspecting humans in.

He's strong alone. They were born fatherless, their mother was publicly murdered by the CCG when they were young and Osamu, ever the pacifist, decided to walk away from him the day of their high school graduation.

"Why're ya here?" Atsumu asks when he opens the door to see Osamu, dressed in a light coat and scarf, hover outside his home.

They haven't seen each other for years. Eight years in fact, if he's keeping count, which he's not. Atsumu crinkles his nose, Osamu probably tracked him down by scent— Atsumu's scent is around the unlivable zone of the 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 4th ward. 

Osamu's cheeks have hollowed out. He looks scrawny, his dark hair clumping at his forehead, the coat not covering the fact that it's hanging poorly over his too sharp shoulders.

Atsumu glances around— it's early morning, he could hear parents walking their children to school nearby— and yanks him inside the genkan, slamming the heavy door shut behind him.

Osamu looks at the entry way as Atsumu feels a prickle of annoyance at the lack of words from his brother, "I don' have a lotta time on my hands, get out or—"

"Still workin' as a gigolo, I see," Osamu looks at the paper calendar he pinned on his corkboard, just next to the genkan. It's full of the names of women he's supposed to escort.

Atsumu almost kicks him out. Almost. He has a need to drive Samu's body into the CCG gates like he did last night, to shut him up once and for all. Eight years and the first thing he says is about Atsumu's day job?

The sweet promise of breaking his nose falls short when Atsumu realizes he can get under his skin in a different way.

Atsumu studies his nails. They're shiny, buffed, have the right amount of white showing that's acceptable. He spots one hang nail though, ripping it off with a swift tug and watching the blood bead on top of his skin before his skin immediately starts stitching itself.

He says this in a sing-song voice, "Yer point? Ya look awfully skinny, Samu, not eatin' enough? What would Ma say?"

Osamu's jaw clenches. Atsumu takes a careful inhale, parting his lips slightly. There's the scent of many ghouls on him, Rin being the strongest and a weird sweeter scent that catches his attention. It reminds him of being parched on a summer day and being given water.

" _I'm serious_ ," He injects a bit of the Tokyo accent he uses when meeting clients, squishing his roots, the memories of singing with Osamu and their Ma as they held her hand and skipped to the conbini, "Don't think I'm being a good host, there're people outside and I'm busy an' I got an appointment—"

"We're runnin' outta food. I want to ask if yer willin' ta hunt for us."

As ghouls, they risk exposing themselves and dying every time they step outside into the human world.

Osamu runs an underground meat supply for ghouls who can't hunt for themselves as well as a small coffee shop that hand grinds their own beans and forces customers to wait fifteen minutes for a single order of drip coffee. Atsumu never understood the calling, but he knows there's money that could be made there and Osamu often uses that to quietly remove unidentified bodies from funeral homes to feed the ghoul population he houses.

Or so he hears from Bokuto.

_"You two have to protect each other, you're all each other has, remember this."_

Twins in their world are unheard of. Usually, one embryo in the womb is stronger and eats the other one throughout nine months. The fact that they were born— with no visible signs of womb multiage according to their mother— was an act that punched Nature in the throat.

Atsumu always thought he should've killed Osamu when he was younger, remember the first few years he was alone without his brother, shivering beneath rain soaked pavilions and bowing his head and smiling at looks older men and women threw his way.

It would've been his right as the older sibling. Osamu's too soft, too weak to say no to orphaned ghouls, too clumsy in trying to kill others while Atsumu had a natural edge for violence and death.

He could've spared his brother a life of struggle and sorrow.

"Why the fuck should I waste my energy on yer group of orphans?"

"We were orphans too," Osamu reminds him. Atsumu hates the way he could say it so easily, like it wasn't something that broke his pride whenever he thinks about it late at night, "We were fed the same way when Ma died."

Atsumu clearly remembers being handed over a packet of something square wrapped in butcher's paper, being patted on the head.

"Get someone else to do yer dirty work."

"No one can, every other ghoul is either with Ushijima's group, the Aorigi or yours— I have people cannibalizing each other now an' it's _hell_ —"

"So am I—" He says loudly, cutting him off, "—Supposed to care about those weaklings now? Am I supposed to help the weak like it's some kind of charity work?"

He earned his spot in this world. He survived the humans, he knows he can live near them and still be perfectly fine. The orphans and ghouls incapable of killing here in Tokyo don't deserve to be alive.

It's not fair that he struggled and flailed while they coasted on hand outs.

"You know what's hell, Samu?" Atsumu uncrosses his arm, feeling the veins on his face stretch and tighten. If he looks in the mirror now, he would see his kakugan flare a brilliant red, "Livin' alone when the only family ya have left abandoned you."

For eight years, he didn't even know Osamu was alive, only keeping track by sitting on very tall buildings during the night and sniffing the air. Sometimes he would catch his brother's scent.

Sometimes he wouldn't, walking around Tokyo in the middle of the night between jobs until he found the little coffee shop in a quiet residential district, standing across the road, behind a tree as he watches Osamu laugh with humans.

Osamu grits his teeth, "Ya abandoned me first."

Atsumu clenches his jaw, "Why don' I jus' rip off yer leg right now and throw that to yer new family?"

"I'll pay ya," Osamu tilts his chin up, "I'll pay you human money."

Atsumu sees red for a split second, biting his tongue as he holds back.

_"You two have to protect each other, you're all each other has, remember this."_

Fuck his bastard brother for nailing him where it hurts. Atsumu has expensive tastes. What he doesn't spend on bills and electricity goes towards lavishing himself.

If you have human money, then go buy unidentified bodies and fuckin' use them!"

"They don't have a constant supply!" Osamu argues, his eyes flickering to black and red. Atsumu can smell anger on him, his blood pumping harder in response, "The CCG's already suspicious of me and Rin! We can't be hunting every night!"

"Hire someone else then!"

"I already told ya! They're either with Ushijima or the Aogiri!"

Atsumu turns around, padding deeper into his home and hearing Osamu follow him after a beat of kicking off his shoes. He shrugs his shirt off and plucks a white shirt from his closet, quickly fastening the buttons and looking up to see Osamu hovering at his bedroom door with a knitted frown over his brow.

Atsumu grinds his teeth together, feeling one of his molars crack and a sharp stabbing pain in his mouth spiking before dulling, his body already repairing the fracture.

He doesn't think Osamu deserves his help. Especially not those orphans who are too weak to kill.

If they don't want to kill then they have no right to be alive. They might as well give themselves up for people like him who feed off power. He takes a deep inhale, committing his brother's fresh scent to memory because who knows when the next time he'll see him be?

He's cracking though. It was a mistake to listen to their mother's album last night.

Atsumu dresses quickly, sprays himself with one of the many cologne bottles lining his dresser, making sure to stifle his natural ghoul scent as much as possible and kicks his brother out into the sun.

" _Tsumu, please—_ "

"Alright! Alright" He snaps, letting his kakugan flare up for a brief moment, a warning to his brother, "Shut the fuck up, I'll give ya food startin' tonight."

> Ghoul Profile   
> Name: Inari/稲荷  
> Gender: Male  
> Height: 189 cm  
> Kagune: Ukaku  
> Rank: A  
> Mask: Black and red kitsune mask  
> Notes: son of Torii (鳥居), other brother presumed dead

There's something addicting about hunting prey.

Atsumu had always been fascinated by bodies— not in a sexual way, although he's interested in that one too. How could something like codes, endless repetitions of what are essentially proteins and sugars create larger proteins, which fuse together into tertiary structures to make bigger proteins interact with each other into what's his muscles and ligaments and bones stroking someone's cheek in the bar?

He's always been curious about sciences like that, but being left parentless at a young age and hiding from investigators made it quite difficult to enroll himself in school.

Perhaps in another life, he could study medicine. Perhaps in another life, he's not shackled to lies, a life of staying below the public's radar, a life of escorting older woman to masked parties, smelling human sweat in the air, feeling too many hands fondle his shoulders, stomach, legs.

He wants something quick tonight, changing his hair style before he enters the bar and trying not to blink too much from the dark brown contacts obscuring his eyeballs. 

He inhales, following his nose and seeing a sizeable male that would feed Osamu's orphanage.

He orders a whiskey on the rocks and waits, smirking behind his drink as he already see several people motion towards him.

How lucky to be born a human, he thinks, how lucky to not live a life of lies.

He and his prey stumble out of the bar. Atsumu acts drunk, laughing and pulling them down the alleyway and sending the right smiles to get his point across. He allows himself to be pushed into a brick wall, his only audience being the lamp post flickering three meters away and a vending machine at the mouth of the alley.

He feels a hot breath near his ear before he's spun around to face the wall, a foot kicking his ankles apart, a large set of hands grapping his hips and pulling him back flush.

Atsumu stiffens at the thought of his pants being kicked by a human, immediately releasing his kagune and spearing the human like a yakitori skewer. He hears a low gasp and nothing else after that.

That was short lived, but he didn't care. Food is food.

Not many people look up during the night time. Sure, they look at the bars and restaurant chains on the second and third floor, but no one fully tilts their head up to see him jumping from roof top to roof top, his rinkaku cradling his prey with a mask covering his face.

He scales buildings to where Osamu's coffee shop is, shuffling into a side alley where a bin lies innocently in the middle of the alley next to an unremarkable back door.

He looks at it, opens the lid to reveal a chute.

Atsumu drops the food and jams the lid back down. He waits until he hears the muffled thump of the body hitting the underground network of tunnels Osamu uses to get in between wards without being seen before shoving his hands in his pockets and sighing.

If only they weren't born with the inability to eat human food. A miscode in the protein apparently brought on the first wave of ghouls into the world. A genetic mutation.

He hears a stifled cry.

Atsumu blinks, narrowing his eyes. The coffee shop, while dark, has people inside. Osamu, the jerk! Atsumu lifts his fist to pound the glass so he can bill his brother the dry cleaning service for his pants when he catches Osamu patting the shoulder of a ghoul that's certainly not Rin. A human?

Atsumu inhales. No. Not exactly ghoul, not exactly human either. Among the smell of car exhaust, the rain coming their way tomorrow, ramen from several blocks down the street and autumn in the air, he smells the same sweet scent he caught on Osamu earlier this morning.

He decides to give the windows a sharp rap. Osamu's head snaps up, settling his glare on Atsumu.

_You gonna let me in?_ Atsumu raises an eyebrow before realizing his brother can't see his face thanks to the mask.

Osamu gives a resigned jerk to the door. Huh. Twin telepathy, he guesses.

Atsumu wastes no time, grasping the knob in one hand and stepping in, inhaling the smell of coffee that seems to perk him up. He's never been in here before, staring at the wall with a map of the world with little pins depicting where each bean the shop carries is from. Along the far wall is a serving counter seating five. Behind it are mortar and pestels, boxes of coffee filters, a giant stainless kettle, a manual scale, a glass cabinet full of cups and stacks upon stacks of coffee beans.

There's so many coffee beans he's sure Osamu can single-handedly power Tokyo's med school population.

"I dropped off the goods," He tells Osamu in the standard Tokyo accent, who's sitting by the counter with a half empty coffee cup. The mysterious guest is hidden behind his shoulder, "Someone new?"

The guest peeks out briefly to look who he is. Atsumu stares at him, knowing Osamu heard the audible flutter of his heart rising above resting heartrate.

The guest is slouching, but from what he can see, he's a good 6'3 maybe 6'4 of pure height, broad shoulders and almost delicate features fitting for a model. His hair, black in the shop, is curled from what little streetlight shines in, as well as the clothes he's wearing.

There's a mask covering his face so Atsumu could really only see the top half of his face.

His left eye is black, his left is the scarlet kakugan Atsumu's used to seeing in the mirror, black veins creeping around the eye.

"A—"

" _Avarice_ ," Atsumu stops Osamu from saying his name. The half-ghoul's eyes widen. He holds out a hand before realizing it's speckled with dried blood, rubbing them together and seeing it fall onto the ground, "The CCG calls me Avarice."

He holds his hand out. The half-ghoul doesn't do anything, staring at his hand in disgust. Atsumu drops it after a beat, looking to Osamu, "Where did you find him? You should stop picking up stray pets on the road."

"Kanou's hospital, 'bout to be fed to the Aogiri Tree. Be nice."

"Doesn't talk much I see," Atsumu observes, hopping onto the bar seating and leaning, watching the half-ghoul. He smells amazing, like straight out of something meant to drive Atsumu insane. It's a good thing he's eaten recently or he might cannibalize his pretty face. "Do you have a name?"

"...Sakusa."

His voice is deep but soft, weary. He sounds tired. He looks tired too, scrawny, like his brother. He's wearing a black long sleeve with a shifting collar that shows off his clavicles that are delicious enough to lick from. Atsumu stares at it like a man possessed, yearning to nibble the little patch of skin around his neck.

He doesn't eat ghouls often but when he does, he makes sure to properly treasure the experience. They fight back at least, so Atsumu gets a thrill in trying to avoid death _and_ devour his meal.

"Stop thinkin' disgusting thoughts, I can hear ya from here."

"No one asked you to tune into my head," Atsumu scowls, standing up and walking to the door. "Anyway, another delivery will come tomorrow. You know my bank account, I'm sure."

Then he allows the door to slam behind him, heading for the closest dark alley and scaling the building until he's leaping from rooftop to rooftop, back home.

> Ghoul Profile  
> Name: Avarice/アバリス  
> Gender: Male  
> Height: 190 cm  
> Kagune: Rinkaku  
> Rank: SS  
> Mask: Black and gold Anubis mask  
> Notes: displays his prey by spearing them

When he dumps another body into the trash-can-slash-hidden-chute the next day, he sees his brother and Sakusa in the shop again, bonding over coffee.

Like yesterday, he strolls in, Osamu already rolling his eyes at him the minute an inch of his shoes passes through the door. Bastard probably smelled the blood on him like a basset hound.

Sakusa gives him a wry expression. He looks like shit. Atsumu turns to his brother, noticing that at least the pale pallor on him has improved, he's not moving in a jerky fashion reminiscent of someone having low blood sugar.

"What are we chattin' about?"

"Owl was sighted around the 1st ward just now," Osamu reports. Atsumu hums, wondering if that was why the ward alarms were blaring and people were evacuating into the surrounding areas, "Something about breaking the lobby building."

"Interesting. Well, the Aogiri Tree were always a brutal bunch."

"He's in charge of his own pack," Osamu tells Sakusa in a tight tone, disapproval written all over his face. Atsumu laughs behind his mask, knowing that Sakusa can't feel how delighted he is through smiling alone— he's not telepathically bonded to his stupid twin. "They call 'emselves the Black Jackals. If you see 'em, run."

"I'll you know if we're looking for new members," Atsumu tells Sakusa, who scrunches up his nose. Cute. Atsumu wonders if Sakusa will give him a good fight when he has him pinned under him, "Are you good at playing with your food, Sakkun?"

Sakusa growls. Atsumu grins beneath his mask, not knowing why his furious scowl makes him so delighted when Osamu lets out a resigned sigh.

Atsumu leans forward, smiling under his mask as the half-ghoul gives a flustered look between his eyes and his collarbones, "So, did you liked the human from yesterday? Tasty, right?"

Osamu's left eye twitches. Sakusa sulks further in his seat.

Atsumu looks between them, slowly drawing his words out.

"Is there...something I'm missing?"

"He's refusing to eat."

Atsumu immediately frowns, directing his next words to the half-ghoul, "But food builds muscles. You _need_ to eat, the hunger of a ghoul is the worst thing—"

" _I don't want to_ ," Sakusa firmly says, furrowing his brow and curling up on himself into a ball.

Atsumu looks at his brother, finally understanding why they're sitting in the shop alone after store hours, the cups of coffee around them and shoulder pats all making sense, jealousy and wrath making his hands shake.

If Osamu could be nice to a half-ghoul like Sakusa, then why was Atsumu abandoned?

"Then go to the CCG and offer yourself up for slaughter," Atsumu scoffs. He has a full day tomorrow and needs some beauty sleep, getting to his feet and once again, rubbing his hand free of the caked blood on his skin, watching the dark brown dust fall from his hand to scatter around the floor boards. "We don't need weaklings like you in this world."

"Hey!" Osamu yells for him. "Apologize righ' now!"

Atsumu flips them the middle finger, slamming the door hard enough that he hears one of the glass panes crack.

It bothers him.

It itches under his skin like excess energy. Atsumu tumbles around for the next few days with various humans in love hotels, ignoring the fact that he should've been hunting for his brother. Two humans should be enough he thinks, but he doesn't know the extent to Osamu's ghoul family to know if it has expanded since last time.

And the younger ghouls need more food if they're growing.

He shakes his head to clear the thought, taking his hand out of the CCG investigator's chest. Although he prefers males most of the time, sometimes he's in the mood for smaller frames and long hair.

The rank 3 investigator bleeds profusely in the bathtub, red swirling down the train from the tap he's running. He intends to drain the body of blood first so he's not leaving a trail when he's walking outside, but for now, he grabs her heart and takes bites of it.

Humans are the only thing they can stomach. Atsumu takes another bite, his teeth cutting easily through the striated cardiac muscles, holding the slippery heart in his hands carefully so it wouldn't shoot across the bathroom. He doesn't understand why Sakusa wouldn't eat.

Even if the idea of cannibalizing is nauseating, Sakusa will soon understand that it's best to let his instincts take over, else he runs headfirst into a rampage.

"Have ya ever encountered a ghoul who doesn't wanna eat?"

Hinata gives him a weird expression, Bokuto mimics him, "What do you mean, Tsum-Tsum?"

"Exactly wha' I mean," They're strolling through Shinjuku Park, wondering if there's easy pickings tonight in the form of people falling asleep on benches. Atsumu bends his back, feeling the scar tissue from how the investigator had raked his back last night stretch, "Do we know of any crazies who don't eat?"

"Well, I know some people can't kill 'em, which is why Myaa-sam's shop exists, right? Keiji probably wouldn't be into killing and stuff if he was a ghoul."

Atsumu rolls his eyes. Keiji this. Keiji that. Bokuto had recently gotten himself a human boyfriend (disastrous ending aside— Atsumu can see Bokuto eventually eating him) and it's all he would talk about. Atsumu knows this guy's favorite color, major in university, height, how he likes his steaks and how he smells.

And he knows exactly what Akaashi Keiji smells like thanks to Bokuto shoving his t-shirt into Atsumu's face to sniff, threatening him to commit the scent to memory so he doesn't go around hunting him by mistake.

"Hmm."

"Something the matter, Atsumu-san?"

Sweet, sweet, Shouyou, who is the scariest ghoul Atsumu has had the chance to nibble, picks up on his pout, "I saw a half-ghoul the other day, dunno how, but—"

"Oh!" Hinata thrills, "It must be from the Steel Beams Incident!"

"The wha?'"

They decide to exit the park and head for the nearest train station. Atsumu is reading the newspapers as Hinata and Bokuto fight over the last Boss Black Coffee in the vending machine, his eyes pouring over the kanji.

_A week ago, a crane that showed signs of breaking and entry had been used to move a steel beam in the construction site of a new apartment tower in the 3rd ward. Two males had been rushed to St. Luke's International Hospital nearby where transplant surgeon Kanou Akihiro proceeded to give the only surviving patient a necessary, life-saving organ transplant without permission from both families. He has since disappeared from public eye._

_Police has deemed this as an isolated incident with no relations to either victims. Those with details are asked to please contact the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department._

"Bokuto-san! I won rock papers scissors! You can't steal from me!"

Bokuto laughs.

_"Where did you find him? You should stop picking up stray pets on the road."_

_"Kanou's hospital, 'bout to be fed to the Aogiri Tree."_

He sets the newspaper down, "Interesting. It doesn't say who the victims are."

"Probably your friend," Bokuto slurps the coffee obnoxiously, tossing Atsumu another brand of black coffee. Atsumu catches it with his left hand, popping the tab open as they trek out of the station and stroll down to their old hunting grounds of Kabukicho, "And whoever the other ghoul is."

"Do you know who the ghoul is?" Hinata asks Atsumu.

Atsumu has.... Well, he wouldn't call it a skill, but he has a good memory for scents. One inhale is all he needs to remember where and when he last smelled it. Bokuto's annoying human boyfriend had said that Atsumu may have scent-related hyperthymesia, whatever that is. It sounds like a made up word.

"Who haven't we seen recently?"

Hinata lists off several names. They duck into a confusing maze of alleyways, ignoring patrons outside of clubs trying to drag girls inside. Bokuto has split off, already on the prowl as he gives them a small wave, turning into a bar.

"If I see Sakkun's kagune, I'd definitely know who it is," Atsumu hums. He sniffs the air, hopeful for something good and disgruntled when he smells nothing but average humans.

Hinata does average. Atsumu has far superior tastes and refuses to stoop so low for normal humans. But he sighs and follows Hinata down an alley, all for the name of bitterly providing for his brother and millions of orphaned ghoul children and families.

He's visiting after dropping off not one but four bodies for the food chute. Osamu is making him coffee, asking him to stay for a bit to 'chat'.

Atsumu doesn't know how to 'chat'. He knows how to flirt, how to wink at someone across a room full of smoke, how to skin away a corpse, how to talk to someone while he's pressing them into a mattress, how to kill a human in the nicest way possible.

"You'll like this roast," Osamu confidently states like Atsumu visits him biweekly after work and not like Atsumu has been planning five different ways to lure humans into an alleyway for the past week, "I know ya like peach."

"Bold of ya ta assume I still like it."

"You will."

What a load of baseless confidence. Atsumu warily makes a face at the coffee dripping, sitting on the edge of his seat.

He's not used to...whatever this is. When he thinks of Osamu, there's still a lot of painful memories he'll never forget.

A cup enters his vision. Osamu grins at him, looking in better health already with the hollows of his cheeks filled in. There's a reason why Atsumu had said food makes muscles to Sakusa, because it _does_. 

"How's yer pet project?" He speaks through his mask, lifting it slightly off his forehead so he can jam the coffee cup under his lips. He sips. _Oh_. Maybe he's right for once.

Osamu smirks at him, "Good right?"

"It's acceptable," Atsumu snootily says, sipping more and ignoring the way the coffee trails down his throat in a hot stream. "How's you an' lover boy?"

"In love. You should try it."

"Disgusting," He knows they've just banged. Osamu's neck is fresh with a set of bite marks which reminds him. 

They both knew the hunger of a ghoul, the all consuming madness of one thought overtaking their system, the need to eat, the need for nutrients, the need for something to sit well in their stomach.

He wiggles in his chair awkwardly. Now that his two topics of small-talk has been used up, he doesn't know what to say to his estranged brother of eight years.

He remembers the last time they were facing each other, just a few hours after their high school graduation. They've been living with a guardian who are aware of their nature. Atsumu doesn't know where Kita is right now, but he's probably gone and retired to the countryside by the lack of his name being mentioned through Osamu's mouth.

It's hard when the last memory he has of his mother was her pushing them into a dumpster and drawing the CCG's attention to her while they ran home, anxiously waiting at the door for her return and knowing what loss meant when they clicked on the late night news and saw Hyuuga Suzume's picture on the screen with the caption, _Pop Idol Suzume Identified As Ghoul and Eliminated by CCG._

One win for the doves.

One loss for them.

No— one fatal _mistake_ for the doves. 

Atsumu devoted the past eight years picking off the CCG. It didn't matter who they were, as soon as he sees the faces on the streets, he lures them like a carnivorous plant before eating their hearts and driving their body through the CCG's tall, pointy gates.

_Look at them_ , he wants to say every morning he sees his work being broadcasted, _look at the mistake you made all those years ago_.

Their mother's best hit song was called "The Shrike". It's a small bird that spears bugs and amphibians and mice, twisting the necks of their preys to eat. Their mother had been bird like in stature, soft smiles and singing them to sleep.

He's often is conflicted when it comes to her. She was weak, weak enough to let herself be killed by the CCG instead of coming home to them but he couldn't deny the soft spot he has whenever he strolls into a human establishment and hears her voice through the speakers.

He vowed to never be as weak as her, never be weak like his brother, who seemed to have inherited her traits.

"Samu!"

Rin pops up from the hidden door in the floorboards. He sees Atsumu, mouth opening slightly, before swinging his head back to his boyfriend, "He's vomiting again."

Osamu runs to the front door to lock it, ducking behind the bar and slipping into the trap door. Atsumu looks around the coffee shop, standing up and following him down.

The hidden door reveals a ladder with a light at the end. Atsumu, not in the mood to be careful, lets his legs dangle freely as he loosens his grip, gravity pulling him down.

He hasn't been in the Underground for a long time. There are tiles below him and a long white hallway stretching far down until it connects to another hallway. He jogs and follows Osamu, trying to visualize in his head where they would be if they're above ground.

He follows them when they climb a ladder, popping out in the basement of an accounting firm used only for entering and exiting purposes, climbing the stairs until they're back outside.

Sakusa lives in a run down apartment complex Osamu helped him get with a bunch of forged papers. Atsumu can smell mold from where he's standing right outside the door as Rin shakily punches in the 4 digit code and pulls it open.

The stench of human food overwhelms them and they gag, Atsumu stronger as he shucks his shoes off and finds the kitchen sink, hurling. 

When he wipes his mouth free of his drool and turns, he surveys the scene.

Sakusa is curled up on the floor, pale and breathing heavily as Osamu and Rin are trying to pry his jaws open for some water and coffee beans. Scattered around him are open packages of conbini food— katsudon bowl, the fatty cuts dripping with oil, grains of rice on the floor, several anchovy chips on the ground, trampled upon, the filling of an egg sandwich, various chocolates and candies, colorful and bright against the wood.

There's a cream fruit sandwich with ripe grapes cut into triangles, also half bitten.

Atsumu stares at it all, annoyance curling in his body. It's so easy for Sakusa to stop feeling like shit if he just eats some human flesh.

Sakusa is propped up against his kitchen wall, Osamu chiding him gently about overeating. Sakusa is shaking his head when Osamu pulls out a small package from the lunch bag Rin had been running with— Atsumu sees an ice pack inside and something square wrapped in butcher's paper.

He sniffs something, the scent of oily pork roast coming from the outside, given to a neighboring unit by a heavily pregnant woman.

Rin stiffens. Atsumu does too, watching Sakusa's eye turn red immediately.

" _No!_ " He roars, bracing and catching Sakusa around the waist as the half-ghoul drives them towards the floor. Rin runs for the front door to close properly, Osamu leaping out of the way as Sakusa lets out an inhuman whine, saliva coming out of his mouth as he struggles.

"Give him the flesh!" He orders his stupid brother, wriggling on his back with Sakusa trying to escape his arms, thrashing.

" _Please_ ," Sakusa sobs, kakugan spinning as a string of drool falls on Atsumu's bare arms, " _I'm so hungry!_ "

" _Samu!_ " He snaps, shaking his brother out of his frozen state.

Osamu scrambles for his pocket, ripping open the butcher paper and diving to the floor where Atsumu is tussling Sakusa, pulling Sakusa closer to him as he tries to avoid his sharp elbows. 

Osamu swears when Sakusa sinks his teeth into his arm, the air smelling like copper. For a split second, Atsumu is overwhelmed with a heady thought of jealousy, watching Sakusa's mouth wrapped around his forearm before Osamu jerks back and rips himself off.

Atsumu twists his body. Sakusa flattens out like a pancake when Atsumu clambers over him, pinning his thighs with his own legs and holding two of his wrists in one hand, running his other free hand over his hair, panting.

Sakusa's crying, tears leaking out of his eyes as his fingers miserably twitches. There's a smudge of red on his lips as he moans why they're not letting him eat, he's so, so, _so hungry._

" _Why?_ " He cries.

"Sakusa, yer already so hungry that yer letting the hunger take over," Osamu is stroking his hair. Atsumu watches with muted envy as Osamu waves the meat closer, "Come on, just a little nibble, you'll feel better."

Sakusa's head leans forward. Atsumu sees his jaw open before his kakugan flickers and he's looking up at Atsumu and Osamu, then to the meat near his mouth.

Sakusa shakes his head, curls spreading over the floor as he turns his head. Tear tracks go from the corner of his eyes to his ear. His shoulders are twitching.

No, he's crying.

Atsumu only watches as Osamu sighs, putting the meat away.

Atsumu loosens his hold, still hovered above Sakusa, who brings his arms down to cover his face, making choked sniffling and swallowing sounds. He's muttering, " _I'm not a ghoul, I'm not a ghoul_ ," over and over again.

_Why are you repeating it like a death sentence_ , Atsumu thinks, getting to his feet and standing aside as Osamu sits him up and gives him a handful of coffee beans now that his apartment isn't full of human stench. Rin enters the room again and goes back and forth to the sink, replenishing cups of water for Sakusa.

He doesn't know how long they spend sitting on the kitchen floor, but each time Osamu feeds Sakusa, Atsumu has to look away.

"...I don't want to be a ghoul," Sakusa rasps, like he's confessing something in a church. Hearing him makes Atsumu's skin crawl, he wants to push him into the ground and punch his face, demanding if it's so fair for the rest of them when they're born like this.

"I have to leave," Atsumu announces. Osamu snaps his head up, as if he's forgotten Atsumu was there in the first place. It's fine, he's used to being forgotten.

"A—Avarice."

Sakusa is staring at him through tear-stained eyes. Atsumu sees his reflection in his human eyes, black and shiny with tears. His face looks like it could be carved from stone.

Atsumu leaves without another word, making sure the door is closed properly behind him this time.

He considers cannibalizing Sakusa.

He's weaker than him for sure, a weak ghoul is no match for him. Atsumu carefully sustains a diet of mostly humans but also sometimes ghouls to build up his supply of RC cells.

And Sakusa doesn't seem to want to live the past few times he's dropped by the food chute with corpses, always looking thinner and gaunt as Osamu makes it his life's mission to console him through coffee alone.

"Coffee's not going to sustain him," He tersely tells Osamu, tapping a loud, annoying beat with his expensive shoes. He didn't visit today for food, he came here as a leader of the Black Jackals.

"...I know," Osamu mutters, shifting his gaze away from Atsumu's glare.

"Tell him that if he gets caught hunting in my territory, that I'll devour him for sure."

"Tsumu!" Osamu yells as Atsumu kicks open the shop door with his foot and goes back home in a great cloud of anger.

Sometimes he gets random ghouls wandering into his territory to hunt, not knowing that the 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 4th ward belong to him and Ushijima's group. He usually gives him a very rough warning consisting of a nice bruise to the face and a threat that he'll sell the ghoul to a nearby restaurant for Big Madam. 

It usually scares most people off and they profusely apologize before running away to a neighboring ward. 

"Shouldn't you snuff the problem before it gets out of hand?" Hinata asks, gulping down an entire kidney down, his throat bobbing. Atsumu shoves his hand into the warm torso of their prey, moving around the large intestine, fishing the other kidney for him.

"I should."

"Why aren't you?" Bokuto.

"I don't know."

Bokuto and Hinata give each other twin looks of surprise before shrugging. They're too hungry to care about the inner workings of Atsumu's mind.

Then one day when he's strolling around Shibuya to hunt, he looks up from the tops of people's head when screams enter his ears.

He's pushed to the side by the crowd— Atsumu gasps, spotting a familiar set of curls wearing what looked to be a muzzle for dogs, except that the lower part of the mask hangs by a latch, swinging violently as Sakusa sinks his teeth into an unsuspecting stranger's neck.

Atsumu can hear the snapping of bones from here, his mouth dropping as Sakusa launches himself onto another person, taking them down. He's pulling a girl who's tripped by her ankles, ignoring her cries as her hands bleed on the pavement from the rough surface.

Atsumu watches on, frozen.

_The hunger of a ghoul is the worst thing on earth._

He doesn't even know why he's pulling on his second mask— the one that looks similar to Osamu's fox one, completely covering his face and neck as he zips his windbreaker up before launching himself into the crowd.

People scream when they see him, scattering out of his way. Atsumu jumps, dodging a kid who's fallen to the ground, leaping past a car that's stopped in the middle of Shibuya crossing and yanking on Sakusa's arm, seeing a clump of hair fall and hide one of his eyes, " _Sakusa!_ "

Sakusa looks at him, at Atsumu's second mask, at the hand on his arm, before viciously flinging Atsumu over his shoulder.

Atsumu grimaces when he flies into a red mailbox, completely bending it ninety degrees before he chokes, a heavy weight landing on his chest— Sakusa is—

Atsumu winces when Sakusa sinks his teeth into the area where his neck connects to his chest, shaking him as he tries to drag him away from the middle of the road. Even if his coat got it the way, the bite still hurts, "Hey, snap out of it, Sakkun. Sakusa? _Sakusa._ "

Atsumu groans when he sees people run towards them carrying briefcases, immediately lacing his hand into Sakusa's curls.

"Sakusa," He whispers, pulling his head back slightly. Sakusa blinks dazedly at him, his one black eye peering out between his bangs, the other brilliant red eye burning, "Sorry."

Then he raises his knee up, driving Sakusa's elbow joint down as it bends impossibly backwards before there's a muffled snap and Sakusa is screeching, dropping down to his knees, his kakugan flickering back to his human eye.

" _Fucking!—_ "

"Sorry, sorry," Atsumu mumbles, quickly scooping him up like a doll and running. He lets his ukaku kagune out to shoot shards down at the road until a nice dust kicks up, using it as cover when a humanoid shadow appears in front of him.

" _Stop! This is the CCG's orders, you're under arrest—_ "

He blocks a strike from a quinque with one wing, hardening it like a shield. Atsumu dodges the next swing, making sure that Sakusa isn't within hitting range before moving in and twisting the investigator's wrist until he could yank the weapon out, throwing it far, far away.

Then he kicks her shins, hearing her tibia crack before sprinting away, trying not to jostle Sakusa so much.

Atsumu ducks into an alleyway, glad that Sakusa decided to rampage in his territory, panting and shuffling through the empty streets and rubbing the back of Sakusa's thigh from where he's dangling from his shoulders in a fireman's carry, "Sakusa? Sakusa, are you okay?"

Nothing.

"Sakkun?"

Still nothing. Atsumu briefly stops, looking left and right before seeing a rusty balcony above him, easily climbing on the handholds in the weather beaten wood until he's crawled behind a large air vent, lowering Sakusa off his shoulder to see why there's no response.

Sakusa has passed out, his arm twisted from where Atsumu had shattered it. He's covered in a thin sheen of sweat and Atsumu looks at his ragged breathing, clumps of hair smeared across his forehead like ink.

Sakusa's healing at a slower rate than Atsumu likes, so he brings his hand to his mouth, about to bite down and offer some blood up to him before he pauses.

" _I'm not a ghoul, I'm not a ghoul._ "

He sighs, resting on the top of a random building as Sakusa continues to breathe shallowly.

Normally, if Bokuto or Hinata is hurt, he wouldn't hesitate for them to bite him so they can jump start their healing process. After all, Atsumu's the only one out of them who cannibalize; he always has some RC cells to spare.

_But._

But Sakusa shifts, a small hiss of pain coming out of his mouth. His arm is starting to set, probably from the humans he's bitten before Atsumu dragged him away. Atsumu smooths his sweat-slick hair back, feeling his fingers getting caught in the curls.

Sakusa has a large forehead, Atsumu studies, no wonder he keeps it hidden. 

He looks much younger with his bangs out of the way. Atsumu wonders how old he is, combing through his hair to see several strands of white hidden among the black. 

He suddenly thinks of his mother like this, remembering when he woke up from a nightmare and crawled to her side, feeling her cool fingers stroke his tears away.

" _[I couldn't](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EWLqdAJbu0A) utter ma love when it counted, but I'm singin' like a bird 'bout it now,_" He sings his mother's lullaby, dragging his fingers through Sakusa's curls, " _Remember me love, when I'm reborn, as the shrike to yer sharp an' glorious thorn._ "

He sings the next few verses until enough color has returned to Sakusa's cheeks. When Sakusa's breathing is more even, Atsumu picks him up again and runs him home to Osamu's shop using the underground tunnels.

> New Ghoul Profile  
> Name: Gluttony/グラト二ー  
> Gender: Male  
> Height: 195 cm  
> Kagune: Unknown  
> Rank: ~S  
> Mask: Black dog muzzle, two straps held by ears with a detachable lower jaw for mouth access  
> Notes: seen together with an unknown ghoul wearing an all black fox mask, presumptive identification to be Inari based on ukaku kagune.

He's annoyed when he walks out of the bar he works at to see Osamu sulking around the alley.

They set off wordlessly, not speaking until the streets are quieter and Osamu only has to murmur for Atsumu's ears to pick it up.

"Atsumu."

"Esteemed acquaintance."

"I need help."

"What? You want an entire squadron of humans?" The CCG are very angry now, always walking home with escorts especially after the massacre at Shibuya Crossing. He's resorted to going back around Kabukicho and picking up random tourists that fall prey to his charms, "Y'gotta wait, I'm picking 'em off too often."

"No. It's Sakusa."

Atsumu agrees to drop by the shop since he doesn't work tomorrow morning, irritated by how quickly he caved in. He stops by his home (Osamu waiting outside) to shower quickly and pull his mask over his face before jumping roofs in the mild drizzle.

They sneak into Osamu's coffee shop, dancing towards the back room where there's a proper cellar used for storing crates of whole bean coffee to sell to customers. Atsumu inhales the scent before descending, seeing Sakusa curled up again on the floor, shaking with a mask over his face.

When he showed up to Osamu's with Sakusa's arm broken and both of them trending on SNS, his brother taken one look at Sakusa with a tight expression, thanked Atsumu awkwardly and told him he and Rin would take it from there.

Atsumu didn't really care, handing him off and heading home, careful of investigators prowling the streets. He'd avoided stepping into the coffee shop for the next three weeks, only visiting to drop food off and reverting to he and Osamu's business partner relationship.

Sakusa's arm is healed, that much is clear, but his skin that's not covered by his medical mask is shiny with sweat and he's clearly uncomfortable, borderline in pain.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Not eating again. Could ya," Osamu hesitates, "Talk some sense into him?"

Atsumu shoots him an irritated look. This means two things.

One, which Atsumu relishes in, is that he's right. Sakusa's not fit as a ghoul and Osamu has admitted that he's _wrong_. It feels so good to be right.

But second, the feeling that immediately overtakes the want to gloat is the disgust, scorn and _pity_ he feels pooling up when he stares down at Sakusa, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Why should I?" He asks softly, tilting the mask up slightly so his words don't become garbled. He's never taken it off in front of Sakusa, liking the anonymity. "Why should I help trash like him who clearly doesn't want to be a ghoul?"

"I don't—" Sakusa's voice rasps from the ground. He and Osamu twist their heads down, "I don't want to eat them again."

Atsumu takes a few steps forward, leaning down and looking into Sakusa's face in all it's twisted glory, "But you're a ghoul now."

"I'm gonna do inventory upstairs," Osamu mumbles, going up the stairs to leave them alone. Atsumu opens his mouth to tell him that he hasn't exactly agreed to this— whatever this is.

He looks back at Sakusa shaking on the floor, maintaining his crouched position. He looks miserable, purple bags dragging his eyes with a dull sort of look to his skin. 

"Wouldn't it be easier to accept your ghoul side?"

Sakusa says nothing. He clutches his stomach instead, fluttering his eyes shut.

Atsumu's been like that a couple of times, so hungry he was too weak to move, but never enough that instincts overrode his mind and he slaughtered several dozen people.

"It's going to continue ta get worse," Atsumu says, folding his hands together, staring at the curls that fall down Sakusa's forehead, "You've experienced it once, the true hunger of a ghoul. After you've finished feeding you're gonna stand there with the weight of your sins, covered in blood and guts. It's your destiny now.

"But it doesn't have to be," He finishes.

Sakusa's eyes slits open before he rolls his head up to face him, eyes guarded, "What do you mean?"

A lock of curls falls out of the way. There's a black stud on one of his earlobes, glittering in the low light. Black, like his eyes and hair.

"Do you trust me?"

If Sakusa's smart, he would say no. No doubt he's read the newspapers and talked to the inhabitants of Osamu's little group of ghouls who knows to steer clear from the leader of the Black Jackals. Atsumu's legacy precedes him nicely with a long list of kills and rumors of him being sadistic, which isn't much of a rumor.

Sakusa meets his eyes through the mask. Atsumu waits, knowing for sure that Sakusa knows that ghouls only can eat two things: human and the flesh of other ghouls.

There's no escaping their destiny.

A barely-there nod. 

He grins behind his mask.

"Try this."

Sakusa looks at the tupperware container Atsumu brought out from behind his back, lifting the corners until the teal lid popped open. There's already a spoon in there, jammed from one corner to the opposite, the handle not touching the red mush inside.

"That looks like baby food," Sakusa grimaces. Another day, another view of his cheekbones standing out against his round eyes. Several crates from the cellar is gone, presumably broken down since Osamu sold some beans.

Atsumu hums, using the spoon to mix it, "What do ya smell, Sakkun?"

"What."

"This thing, what do ya smell?"

"...My mom's onigiri. Umeboshi."

He scoops enough to fill half the spoon, patting the spoon on the edge of the container so the red juices won't spill on the floor. He extends the spoon to Sakusa, waiting.

Sakusa looks uncomfortable, staring between Atsumu and the spoon. Atsumu can hear the slick rush of saliva flooding his mouth when he opened the container. 

He must be pretty hungry. When Atsumu eavesdropped on several CCG investigators at a nearby ramen bar in Shibuya the other day, the bodies from the Shibuya Crossing Massacre supposedly were barely eaten.

Sakusa tugs his medical mask down.

"What's in it?"

"Do you trust me?" Atsumu parrots instead.

Sakusa's eyebrows scrunches together.

Then he moves forward, lowering his lashes and opening his mouth slightly, letting the metal spoon enter his mouth, a pink tongue flicking out to touch the red juices pooling from the chopped up human heart Atsumu had diced until it resembled a fine paste.

Atsumu holds back a noise of surprise. He didn't actually think Sakusa would eat it.

His kakugan flickered. Sakusa opens his mouth and wraps his lips around the spoon, moving back and revealing a clean surface.

Atsumu says nothing, pretending not to pay attention to the way Sakusa droops, his Adam's apple bobbing when he swallows. He prepares another spoon, this time a bit more than he'd given Sakusa at first before extending it out to him like he's feeding a baby.

Sakusa wordlessly opens his mouth again. Atsumu watches, he's definitely a weakling. He's fine with eating human meat as long as Atsumu presents it to him in mushed baby food format?

_You must know what you're eating_ , he thinks, feeding Sakusa his third spoon as the half-ghoul now opens his mouth wider, his tongue poking out and licking the stray blood off his bottom lip.

Whatever, he supposes, Osamu will be happy to know that he won't have another ghoul dead on his hands.

Maybe it's a matter on conscious, of morality. It was the thought that Atsumu came to when he went home several days ago and looked up online how to give fussy human babies food.

Sakusa won't eat it if he knows where it came from, but if Atsumu never told him where it came from, perhaps it would make him overcome whatever weird lag in his brain exists.

"Done," He shows Sakusa the empty container— he'd only prepare a quarter of a heart today, just in case Sakusa spits it back out— laughing at the disappointment that comes after, "Good, Sakkun? Ya feel full? Do you remember what digestion feels like?"

Sakusa shoots him a glare, snapping his mask back up. He swiftly goes down the stairs, leaving Atsumu by himself with no thanks.

Atsumu snaps the lid back on, the empty spoon rattling inside, "Jerk."

* * *

_Welcome, ccgopen._

_You have 1 new mail._

_**更新：第1区アラート—大食い、** **グラト二ー,** **シルバーフォックス、イナリ  
**_ _宛先：第1区のファーストクラスの調査員  
_ _BCC：第1区準クラス調査員、特別クラス調査員  
_ _差出人： <noreplyautonews@ccg.jp> _

_**更新：第1区アラート—大食い、** **グラト二ー,** **シルバーフォックス、イナリ** _

_1、2、3、4区は、3つのグールの出現に続いて、カテゴリ3アラートにぶつかった。プロトコルごとの病棟パトロールを続行するためのすべてのファーストクラス調査員およびそれ以上。不審なアクティビティの場合は、チームリーダーにエスカレートして、さらなる指示を待ちます。 重要なお知らせ：このメール送信と添付ファイルには、適切なランキングと実績を持つ調査者の知識と使用のみを目的とした機密情報が含まれています。第三者のサイトやニュースアウトレットへの情報の配布は固く禁じられています。このメールを誤って受け取った場合は、すぐに削除して、セキュリティデスクにお問い合わせください。_

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JPY>>>ENG

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**_Update: 1st Ward Alert — Gluttony, Silver Fox, Inari  
_** _To: 1st Ward First Class Investigators  
_ _BCC: 1st Ward Associate Class Investigators, Special Class Investigators  
_ _From: <noreplyautonews@ccg.jp>_

**_Update: 1st Ward Alert — Gluttony, Silver Fox, Inari_ **

_1st, 2nd, 3rd and 4th ward has been bumped to a Category 3 Alert following the appearances of 3 ghouls. All First Class Investigators and above to continue with ward patrols per protocol. In the case of suspicious activity, escalate to your squad leader and await further orders._

_Important notice: this email transmission and any accompanying attachments contain confidential information intended for only the knowledge and use of investigators with the appropriate rankings and achievements. Any distribution in information to third party sites and news outlets is strictly prohibited. If you have received this email in error please immediately delete and contact your security desk._

* * *

"How come ya were hanging around an empty construction site at night, Sakkun? Pretty weird of you to do that."

"You're aware that as ghouls, nothing can hurt us right? So what's up with the medical mask. Is this some kind of fetish? Don't worry, I welcome all fetishes, no need to be shy."

"You've only spoken a grand total of two sentences to me so far, Sakusa, and I'm the one generously feeding you on a week to week basis since Osamu is too busy counting how many crates of coffee to order. You'd be nicer to the hand that feeds you, right? Is that how the phrase goes? I never went to university so I wouldn't know."

Sakusa doesn't reply. 

Atsumu sighs behind his mask, calmly mushing around half a lobe of liver and some random organs before offering it up in a spoon again.

"You can talk you know, I'm not whatever Osamu has said. It gets boring when I've been hearing my voice over and over again, and I like the sound of my own voice."

" _Do you ever shut up?_ "

Sakusa makes a face. At last! A reaction.

"And he talks! I know I have a melodious voice, you're welcome," Atsumu hums, "Choo choo, here comes the shinkan—"

Sakusa snarls, leaning forward and biting the spoon hard, the metal now having a sharp forty degree bend. 

Atsumu looks at it before laughing, setting down the tupperware on the counter of Osamu's coffee bar and using minimal effort to bend it back.

"Y'know, Sakkun, if you hate being a ghoul so much, you should offer yourself up to me," Atsumu airly says, "I'd treat you very well. We can roll around for a bit before I eat you. You have an interesting smell, has anyone said?"

"You eat others?"

Cannibalization among their kind is viewed as a last resort, commonly seen in wards with higher ghoul to human ratio. Ghoul meat tastes horrible and has a familiar texture to human food, but the bump in RC cells and the chance of a kakuja mutation was too great to pass for Atsumu, so he cannibalized.

He doesn't really think about the implications of his actions; everyday, it was about surviving so he won't get killed by the CCG.

"You have to be more specific. A little love bite is also considered eating—"

"You _cannibalize?_ " Sakusa's voice is hard.

Atsumu flashes him his teeth, watching Sakusa draw back from him slightly, eyes dark and full of distrust, "I did what I had to do to survive."

"You're sick."

"Maybe I am, but with a body like this..." He scoops some more food for Sakusa, "I want to live too, is that so wrong?"

Is it so wrong to fight for himself? For the ones he cares about?

Sakusa goes quiet, lost in his own thoughts. Atsumu has to poke the spoon against his lip for him to open up, watching the baby food go down his throat. 

"Who did you lose?"

Atsumu scrapes the edge of the spoon against Sakusa's bottom lip, catching a droplet of blood before it trails down onto his chin. He lowers his voice even though there's no one in a mile radius and the underground path connected to his brother's shop is empty.

"My father left my Ma before I was born. Ma got killed by the CCG when I was maybe seven or eight. I lost...." He trails off, looking at the silver spoon he's holding, "I lost my entire family."

"The CCG killed her?"

"Of course. Whatever stupid law it is, the one where it says all suspicious activity grants them permission to make you a suspect. Ma was good at blending in with humans, she taught me how to consume and hold human food in my stomach and w—I made friends at school."

"...And then the doves came."

"And the doves came," He looks up, seeing Sakusa's eyes soften from glacial to arctic, "Who did you lose, Sakkun?"

Sakusa's throat clicks as he swallows. Atsumu places the empty tupperware on the counter, hearing the steady beat of his own heart and Sakusa's in the shop. 

Sakusa has a habit of fiddling with his piercing when he doesn't want to talk, he's doing it now.

"My mother and older siblings. I only have my father."

Atsumu knows from the tone that the cause of their deaths were probably his kind, so he hums a low tone, "Sorry for your loss."

It's brief, but he sees the conflict of emotions dance across Sakusa's face, "...Thank you."

Somehow, he agreed to teach Sakusa basic fighting techniques.

"Jus' in case, ya never know when Doves are gonna drop down," Osamu had sensibly said. Atsumu couldn't see how he could wiggle out of his one and agreed, pointedly ignoring the shit eating grin Suna sends him.

Sakusa is clumsy. 

Sakusa may have two left feet. 

Sakusa doesn't know how to box even if he managed to throw Atsumu across the street when he was in his rampage.

"Mind the gap," Atsumu says, bracing himself as Sakusa's swing misses. He takes a half-step inwards and sucker punches Sakusa, watching the taller man grimace and fall, being slowly lowered to the ground by Atsumu.

Sakusa collapses, panting, as Atsumu sighs, adjusting his mask and takes a seat next to him.

"You always keep yer elbows too wide, that's why I keep punching you. I thought you're suppose ta be a good student since you went to Todai."

Sakusa gives him the middle finger, curling into a ball as he recovers.

"You know, something I noticed," Sakusa quietly says, lifting his cheek up from the mat slightly, "You and Osamu-san sound alike."

The lie comes out quickly. "We grew up together in Hyogo before moving to Tokyo when we were three. Ma, Auntie, Osamu and me."

"...Hyuuga Suzume was his mother, right? My parents listened to her songs."

The mention of his mother used to hurt in the months after her death was publicly broadcasted. Grief would sting him at unexpected moments, like the pain of a phantom limb until the hurt dulled into an ache, until the ache faded to a memory.

"She threw him in a dumpster and ran to distract the Doves so he could escape. He did."

"...And you two have been together ever since?"

"Not always. We have different life styles," Atsumu leans back, putting both palms on the mat and resting his weight there, "Only recently were we reunited."

He looks down at Sakusa, finding him looking at him with an unreadable expression— nothing like disgust or confusion, but something unreadable.

He lowers himself down so he can look Sakusa in the eye, smirking, "What? Fallin' in love with me?"

Sakusa reaches forward with his hand and moves Atsumu's mask back, enough to expose his mouth. Atsumu holds his breath, looking at the internal struggle in his eyes, not daring to breathe.

"Maybe."

Atsumu watches him stand to his feet and walk away, always fiddling with the earring on his left side like he's trying to scratch it.

Atsumu slaps his cheeks, feeling the warmth bloom under the skin.

It's winter time. Atsumu's favorite past time currently is to hike up random mountains and see what body he'll find to haul back to Osamu's food chute. Hikers never seem to learn their lessons year after year, though this time he's thankful for the bodies he finds, remembering to send a prayer for his meal.

"Have you been outside at all, Sakkun?"

Sakusa draws his knees up, somehow balancing all of himself on a stool. He has impossibly long legs that Atsumu would love to hug, "Only once. The CCG spotted us and raised a ward alert."

"Ah, I remember that. I didn't get a lot of customers for the next few days."

"...Gigolo, right?"

"I prefer the term escort, but sure, whatever floats your boat," Atsumu laughs, "They're all the same anyway."

"...They're not."

Atsumu looks down, watching Sakusa lick the blood off his mouth. His eyes seem to be alive in the semi-darkness of the shop, the only light coming in from the slits of the blinds Osamu dragged down from the outside.

"You hate bending your head down to humans," Sakusa murmurs, lashes fluttering, "You hate it but you have to do it to survive. You can't hide your inferiority from me."

"What the hell do you know about inferiority?" Atsumu snarls, the arrow hitting dead center in the bull's eye.

"Urie-kun."

"Hah?"

"I know someone like that," Sakusa shrugs, crossing his arms to hug his knees closer to his chest, "Don't you feel disgusted and haunted by nightmares when you kill them?"

Not wanting to kill, feeling someone's life slip by in your hands, their skin turning from warm to cool, is why Osamu is so popular. Many common ghouls balk at the thought of killing using their bare hands.

"It's the cycle, isn't it? I'll kill them and eventually I'll get killed too and will probably turn into a quinque."

This is a known fact when he started hunting humans. He doesn't want to live in the shadows, not like his Ma, who blended in and gotten herself killed either way. 

He won't let the CCG get his hands on him.

The corner of Sakusa's mouth tilts up, "Idiot."

"Sakkun! I knew you liked me!"

"Shut up and give me more food."

He kisses and hooks up with CCG investigators, mostly because he has a lot of free time on his hands one night and because he's trying to get information out of them. It's so easy to do with several drinks and one kiss.

One secret exchanged for one kiss. 

The secret: the CCG has set their sights on the Aogiri Tree, the Black Jackals have become irrelevant to them for now, which is a good thing, probably, considering that Atsumu has killed off at least eleven of their green horn investigators the past few months.

The kiss: terrible. Atsumu is pretending the muscular man on top of him is someone with a leaner body like a panther with curls that fall over one eye. He's so distracted by the thought of Sakusa that he completely misses the click of quinque.

"Fuck," He leaps, feeling his kagune rip out of his lower back, the tentacles forming a shield that deflects the quinque in a shower of sparks.

The investigator was too easy. Atsumu threw his suit jacket at his face and almost felt sorry for him when he grabs the investigator's face in his hands and twists.

A wave of lightheadedness rises up. He looks down to see that one of the quinque ends has broken off and embedded itself onto his side. And he's bleeding. A lot. Enough to soak his boxer shorts.

He looks at the heavy body collapsed on the bed. There's no way he can carry that and himself with a quinque embedded through him at the same time.

"Oh fucker."

"I told you not to play with yer food."

Osamu carries him like a sack of potatoes to Sakusa's bedroom since his cockroach infested building is closer than the coffee shop and Atsumu is losing a lot of blood. Sakusa darts ahead after opening his front door and smooths a waterproof blue tarp on the ground next to his bed. 

Atsumu twitches when he's being lowered, making sure his mask is still on. He's miserably holding onto his suit jacket and pants, not wanting to pull them on and risk blood staining them when Osamu arrived. 

He's never been inside Sakusa's bedroom before, but it's plain, consisting of a few creature comforts— a bed, one dresser, a mirror, a flat screen TV mounted on the wall and a wireless keyboard and mouse put off to the side of the window ledge.

"I nabbed you a strong, young and muscular CCG Rank 2 investigator, you should at least thank me," Suna had appeared for the purpose of dragging the monster prey home, raising an eyebrow as Atsumu's picked up by his brother like a child who got caught with their hand in a cookie jar.

Osamu drops him onto the tarp. Atsumu howls, "Bitch!"

Sakusa snickers, pulling on gloves. The pain is already clouding Atsumu's head. He knew enough basic information about injury that he shouldn't have pulled out the blade, so his body had been slowly bleeding thanks to the quinque preventing him from healing.

"What're ya doing?" Atsumu warily looks. Sakusa has his mask present and is kneeling by his side, centering Atsumu's body as his latex covered fingers graze the bare skin of his waist. Osamu is folding a towel into a tiny, bunched square.

"He used to be a med major, y'know," Osamu dryly says, kneeling and stuffing the towel in Atsumu's mouth.

Then without any warning, without a countdown, Sakusa grasps the blade and yanks upwards.

Atsumu bites down on the towel, slicing it through completely and feeling his molars crack again as he twitches. He groans into the fabric, feeling tears leak into his eyes as Sakusa's hands wipe him down with warm water and a damp towel.

"...It's still bleeding. Don't ghouls usually heal fast?"

_Don't talk about ghouls as if you're not one of us_ , the thought is present in his mind but Atsumu doesn't have the strength to do anything, already tired of bleeding out for the half hour it took Osamu to fetch him and the ten minutes it took for them to go one of the many love hotels around Golden Gai to Sakusa's apartment in Bunkyou City.

"Hey," Osamu's head comes into view. He's frowning, "When's the last time you ate?"

The problem with winter is that most people were keen on staying inside. That and coupled with the fact that Atsumu had ran rampant throughout the late summer and autumn season meant that people were already wary of going outside.

"Dunno," He closes his eyes. "I've been dropping food off for you."

That much is true. He didn't realize how normal it is now to go outside and hunt for his brother. Look at him being soft, Bokuto would laugh at him.

Would Ma be happy if she saw them like this?

"...Idiot."

Atsumu twitches his mouth into a grin at Sakusa's snipe, "S'okay, I'll eventually heal, let me borrow your floor for a bit, okay?"

"I'll see if we have anything we can spare," Osamu's voice floats away, the quiet click of the front door following. "I'll text you if we don't have anything. Yer okay with him stayin', righ?'"

"Sure."

Atsumu suddenly feels alive. He's alone with Sakusa in his apartment.

He opens one eye and peers through his mask. Sakusa is kneeling down beside him, watching him over like some kind of guardian.

"I have a beautiful face, please, keep on staring."

"You're wearing a mask," Comes the dry reply.

"True," Atsumu chuckles before his breath hitches with pain and he stops, breathing lightly. The tarp is quite sticky now, but he knows he won't bleed to death, "Say Sakkun, if Osamu can't find any food, would you mind donating me a nibble? I did feed you and all, consider it an equivalent exchange."

Sakusa gives him the reply he's not expecting, "Okay."

He opens both eyes, staring up at him. Sakusa looks surprised by his own answer, a light shade of pink dusting over his ears.

"I—"

"I was joking," Sakusa says in a rush, the pink around his cheeks darker as he clenches his fists, "Don't think I feel indebted to you."

Ah, this is a game Atsumu is aware how to play.

"Of course not, Sakkun, I bet you're just scared of how good I taste. One bite and it'll be all you think about."

"You're disgusting."

"So I've been told, find another word that actually hurts."

Sakusa grumbles something under his breath.

"Didn't catch that, sorry."

Sakusa speaks, a frown appearing again on his face, "I said, you should've realized you haven't eaten and selected your...'prey' better. It would've saved you a lot of pain from now. Why bait an investigator?"

"Intel. I have a price on my forehead you know, I have to be one step ahead of them at all times," He grazes his fingertips along the edge of the wound. It's warm and sticky before his hand is grasped by someone else.

"I can see the blood slowing down, a primary clot has formed, don't touch and break it," Sakusa lifts his arm and drops it back away from the wound, voice flat like he's reading a textbook.

Atsumu sighs, knowing he'll be here for quite a while. He racks his brain for something to talk about, "Med major, huh?"

Sakusa looks guilty, nodding. Atsumu wonders if he's touched upon a sensitive topic, seeing the uncomfortable way he's flexing his fingers, "Yes. I...finished last spring, I was supposed to start my residency in the summer before...this happened."

So Sakkun's twenty-four. Two entire years younger than he and Osamu.

"What residency did ya get?"

"Neurosurgery."

"Brainy, fits ya, Sakkun. You look the smart type."

"I can't say the same about you," Sakusa blinks down at him. He has such a sweet face when it's not scowling. Atsumu wants to know the details of his life, how many relationships he's had and with whom, "Do you have a scar you're hiding?"

"No. Ghouls don't scar remember, we heal very quickly unless we're close to death."

"Then why do you cover yourself up?"

"I was born with a curse."

Sakusa's eyebrow knits. Atsumu raises his left arm up and smooths the wrinkle away, accidentally smudging his forehead with blood. Sakusa doesn't move an inch.

"My face is so handsome that it causes everyone around to fall in love with me," He watches as Sakusa's face go from curious to irritation, "I always have to wear this mask or else I wouldn't be able to walk down the street without people coming to me like magnets."

"Yet you work as a gigolo."

"Yeah, yeah, let's ignore that. It's a national tragedy that I was born a ghoul, but hey, that's why I draw in a lot of prey, you all should be thankful!"

"Osamu definitely is."

Atsumu goes quiet.

"He is?"

Hesitation, then a nod, "He says we all should be thanking Avarice.... No one believed that you were the one donating the bodies at first."

"Right, because I'm sadistic and mad."

"Not mad but...." Sakusa's face twists like he's constipated. Atsumu wonders if he's trying to find a nice word, feeling touched, "Barbaric, maybe."

Atsumu laughs, "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Barbaric. You could learn a few manners, like not killing after you've charmed them," Sakusa says with a little smile, looking down when something in his pockets thrills.

Atsumu watches him pull out his phone, he has an all black cover. Boring.

"...There's nothing left, is what Osamu says."

"S'okay," He waves it away, closing his eyes and letting his arm fall back on the ground, "I'll jus' lie here. You said it's clotting right?"

"...Not as fast as I'd like."

Atsumu is thinking very hard about dead penguins, Hinata's rancid shoulder in his mouth, Bokuto burping, anything that will kill the buzz under his blood away, trying to keep his voice light, "Like I said, don't worry about it."

He hears the slight increase of Sakusa's heartbeat, the clicking of his throat as he dryly swallows, feeling cool fingers around his jaw where his mask had been raised up slightly for Osamu to expose his mouth. Sakusa inches it up even more, stopping just short of exposing Atsumu's nose.

Atsumu decidedly stops breathing.

"Feeding accelerates a ghoul's healing right?" Sakusa sounds like he's in pain, conflicted.

"Yes, but like I said, _I'll be fine_."

The eyeholes of his mask had been tugged too far up, Atsumu is blind, seeing only darkness other than the short gap of vision between his nose, focusing on there. He sees his shoes— Italian leather, Salvatore Ferragamo. He sees a black shelving unit full of Murakami novels, a scuffed looking backpack, classical music CDs and what looked like to be a plastic tub full of papers— Sakusa's school notes that he couldn't part from probably.

Sakusa shifts, leaning down, his heart betraying him as Atsumu hears it flutter like a bird— or perhaps it was his, since he can't hear anything other than a roar inside his ears, a delicate inhale before he feels Sakusa's timid fingers tracing his chin.

Then Sakusa is laughing, low, light, " _I give up_."

"Sakkun?" He doesn't know what's going on.

Somehow, it feels like he's made a decision, the way Sakusa's fingers curl around his jaw more decisively, tickling Atsumu's bottom ear lobe.

"How badly hurt are you?" Sakusa whispers.

"On my death bed," Atsumu replies without thinking, hearing an amused huff as his chin is being tilted up, meeting Sakusa's mouth in a gentle kiss.

He trails his left arm up, curling around Sakusa's left wrist that's cradling his jaw, feeling the elbow that he broke, the dip of his triceps, around his shoulders, into the curls at the back of his neck, pulling him closer as they both move back to sigh before pressing forward again.

Then he hears a rustle of fabric, feeling his left arm being guided until it hits a warm, smooth patch of skin. Sakusa's pulse is fluttering like a bird's wings.

"Do you remember," Sakusa begins in a quiet voice, Atsumu inhaling the heady scent of his half-ghoul smell through his mouth as his mouth slickens with saliva, "When you asked if I was falling for you?"

He nods, throat parched.

Sakusa kisses the inside of his left wrist, right where his pulse is, nibbling without breaking the skin. It'll bruise most likely, he's not being gentle.

"I lied," Sakusa's voice is much closer, a hand cupping the back of Atsumu's head as he tilts his head up until Atsumu's mouth bumps into the warm skin of his neck, "I fell for you much, much earlier, probably when you sang to me."

"I—" Atsumu manages to get out, flustered.

"One bite...an eye for an eye," Amusement colors Sakusa's voice. Atsumu wishes he could take his mask entirely off, he wants to see his shoulders and the rest of his skin.

"Are you sure?" He asks, gulping when Sakusa hums. This feels illegal, he feels like a conman taking advantage of someone. He's not entirely clouded with pain to refuse though, feeling himself being tugged up to a sitting position with Sakusa's help.

Sakusa puts two his two hands on Atsumu's waist, sitting firmly by his hips. Atsumu swallows, curling his right hand into Sakusa's hair and tugging his neck down into a kiss, nipping his lip lightly before he breaks off and draws his nose down, feeling the flutter beneath a thin patch of skin and softly kissing it.

Sakusa makes a small noise. Atsumu is biting down, not enough to break skin, but enough to bruise, feeling Sakusa shiver and twist his long fingers into his hair.

This isn't cannibalizing at all, he tries to get across. This is feeding. And feeding can be life.

"Ava...."

"My name," He lifts his mouth from his neck, following the curve of Sakusa's trapezius, lean and strong, " _Is Atsumu._ "

Then Sakusa sharply inhales as Atsumu holds him steady, his teeth cleanly cutting through the skin and muscles.

When he wakes up, Sakusa's curled around him loosely, the bite mark on his shoulder purple and red in the low lighting of his room. His skin has began healing, the ragged bump of tissue pink and stretchy looking.

Atsumu rubs his eyes, seeing his black Anubis mask on Sakusa's bedside where he tossed after he bit Sakusa and before they decided to tumble in bed. He looks down at the white sheets and wryly notes that Sakusa has to do laundry since flakes of dried blood had rubbed off, smearing the blanket.

"Atsumu."

He turns to Sakusa, who's eyes are heavy with sleep, neck adorned with bruises. He may be the first one to come alive out of a night with him for...as long as Atsumu can remember.

"Hm?" He hums, wincing minutely when the wound on his side sends a sharp stab of pain.

"I didn't know," Sakusa says sleepily, twisting their legs under the blankets together like DNA, "Didn't know that ghouls could have twins."

The curse of being twins in their world means that they're weaker than humans. Atsumu has always believed this. How come his ghoul nature didn't absorb Osamu when they were gestating in the womb? 

Vanishing twin. Osamu should've been one. Or perhaps Atsumu should've vanished. Humans as a species can reabsorb the fetal tissue of their other twin so why wouldn't they, as ghouls, absorb one another?

Once he started killing, he knew his face would be plastered in the CCG database. He didn't want Osamu to be targeted, asking Uta to carve a mask that would hide all of his facial features.

It granted him a peace of mind at least, that Osamu and Rin would live the quiet lives they always wanted when he ultimately is hunted down.

"...There's usually one child 'cause one of 'em is stronger an' feeds off the other one. Guess we're a freak of nature, Samu and I, the other ghoul families would call us weird."

"I think he's glad," Sakusa yawns, pulling Atsumu closer. Atsumu shivers, looking down at his chest and wondering when his heart felt so full, "That he has you. I'm sure it's a blessing that you two have each other."

Sakusa drifts back into sleep, Atsumu running a hand lightly down his side, the skin speckled with moles.

To the dark room, he agrees, "Yeah, I think so too."

There's an extermination by the CCG in the 20th ward tonight. Atsumu had given clear orders to Osamu that they shouldn't go out that night until they get the all clear from the CCG's SNS.

When he woke up and realized he missed work, he had napped more with Sakusa before kissing him goodbye, laughing when Sakusa realizes he has to put his new sheets into a washer.

He pushes the giddiness momentarily away, focusing on the task at hand.

"I thought Akaashi was a med major?" Atsumu asks, dragging the bodies of human investigators off to the side— the ones that are mutilated so bad the CCG won't be able to give them a proper burial— for food.

Bokuto helps him drag a man wearing riot gear into the bushes, panting, "Yeah, but he has this friend who has a boyfriend that works for the CCG. Said that they've been planning to exterminate this coffee shop."

Atsumu had seen the name of the coffee shop from his hiding spot. Anteiku. It smelled like ghouls and probably operates in the same manner as Osamu, feeding the ones that can't hunt.

"Akaashi's in Neurosurgery, right?"

"Yeah!" Bokuto enthuses, happy that Atsumu remembers details of his boyfriend's life, "Heckin' smart! He can put me to sleep by talking about neurons all day long."

"Cute," Atsumu dryly says, standing up from his stoop and checking his watch. Ideally, he would transport the bodies under the cover of darkness but dawn is coming soon, so perhaps he should take the long way out of the 20th ward and to Osamu's shop. "Does he know a Sakusa by any chance?"

"Sakusa?" Bokuto repeats the name, frowning and tapping his chin, "No...I don't think so, but I'll ask. Is he twenty-four, too?"

"Yeah."

"I'll ask Keiji. Should we leave?"

Atsumu nods, scooping as many bodies up with his nine rinkaku tails and climbing the nearest tall building before jumping from roof to roof, Bokuto behind him.

"I hope Hinata's okay."

Atsumu stills, sipping some hot coffee as he and Bokuto sit in a yakitori restaurant, trying to eavesdrop on a group of CCG investigators in plain clothing. He twists his hands, trying to quell his nausea from the smoke billowing around the restaurant. His head is spinning from the smell of rotting meat.

"Me too."

The investigators stay inside the restaurant for two hours. Atsumu orders alcohol mostly, though he and Bokuto order several sticks to split between them, intending to eat them near the very end of the night where they can quickly throw it back up before hunting.

"—Eyepatch is locked up, demonic bastard, he is, nearly took out my hand."

"Shut up, Teppei, we're in public—"

"What? Are ghouls suddenly sitting around in pubs and pretending to eat human food? Calm down, Yamamoto."

"Don't tell me to calm down—"

"Hey, hey, maybe Sayu-chan is right, Avarice's been active for the past few months and this is his turf."

"I ain't gonna be drawn to anyone blond, I'm not like Komori's cousin, okay. Did you hear about what happened with him when he handed in his report to Arima-senpai? He might be removed from the field since he's unsure about carrying out the full weight of his duties now—"

"Hinata's caught," Bokuto wraps an arm around him, pretending to be his lover. Atsumu nods. Hinata must be in Cochlea, "Time to go?"

He nods. They both pretend to chew the last few sticks of yakitori, pay their tab and find the nearest dark alley with a garbage bin to vomit back up the beef skewers.

Atsumu follows Bokuto to Akaashi's apartment that night, waiting on the roof until he's been granted permission to enter through the balcony door. 

Akaashi is tall, nearly as tall as Bokuto with black hair, glasses and a calm demeanor as he directs the both of them to his laptop resting on a table, where, among the million and one tabs open on the screen, medical textbooks and research papers printed in English occupy all but the few inches of room he saves for his computer.

Ẅ̴̭̦̜͉́̎̿̓͆́̓e̸̯̤̅̂̔̆̽̕͜l̵̨͚̲̳̝̏͗̏̌͑̉̚c̸͔̝̪̠̏͌͌ō̸͍͚̩m̷̡̗̫̩̗̺̺̾̀͂͑̇͒̒͝ȩ̴͇͈̓̔̃͂ ̵̻̤͓̠̺̱̯͖͇̿̈́̀̎̇͠ͅĉ̶͙͇̼̖͂c̴̪̲̲͖͚̆̎͑͌̉̚͝ģ̴̦̲̞̫̘̙͚͓̆̽̇o̵̭̼̹̓̏̍͝p̴̧͇̖̱̝̼̼͊̋̓̈́̚͘͜͝͠e̶̪̻̫̓̄̔̊̊̂̆͝ņ̷̨͔̩̠͇͈͚̭͎̎̓̃,̴̡̛͖̱̥̟̌̃͛̂͜͜ ̶̩̖̬̲̯̐̇̋̐͂̈́̌͘͜͜p̶̢̞̯͎̜͙̙͚̯̞̈͐̑͘l̴̡̤̜̳͔̟̲͖͒͒̽̈͑̌̾̄ͅͅḛ̶̠͚̅a̷̡̻̻̰͆̐̉̋̇͆̓̚͝s̴̡̭̞̱̙̣̹̟̾͛̈́̔͠͝ę̴͖̜͍͇͆̈̓͛̈́͘ͅ ̶̛̤̞̮͔̲̗̪̈́͐̿̐̎̈́̄͂͝ḑ̷̦̗͕͎͛̀̈͊̃̓͋̐͘o̵̙͋̎̂̽̅͛ ̶͇̯̘͚̱̟̗̟̟̟̃̈́n̷̛̫̟̑͗̈́̈́̕̕o̸̙͎͕̙̖̪̩̳̒̔̊t̸̡̘̄̐̓̆̐̊͐ ̴͖͂̍͊̍͊͆̓̕͠ḽ̷̡̡̛͙̖̜̤̑̋ȯ̴̢̹͍̲͎̞͒̉̅̃̀͘̕̕g̶̡̡̛͖̳̳̰̰̈́̓̋̈ ̶̨͇̣͖̥̌̊̂̾ͅo̷̧͖̼̯͚̕ǔ̶̼͉̫̩͕̉̾̚͠t̸̡̼̦̙̯̭̬̗̫̓̍ ̸̨̠̞̜͔̳͆o̴̢̧̪͚͆̔͝͝f̶͇̗̼̦̣͋͌̈́̓̅͌̒̈́͘͜͝ ̴͖̤͉͝ţ̵̡̬̩̟̮͓̈̃̎͗̂̓̽͐͂h̸̡͚͇͎̜̟͉͕̲͖͑͗̾͋̉i̷̥̻̗̭̪̫͇͉̮̐̑̾̈́̿͐́͘͝ş̷̡͎͙̜̘͈̹͙͖̃͗̃͋͗͒ ̶͉̭͈̓͊̾̂͝ả̶̻͕̦͎͉̅̏͜͜c̷̻̘̩͍̊̊̽̎c̸̨̙̃͘ọ̷͑̄ụ̸̫̥̝̩̯̹͎̄͛͊̅̐̋͑̀̎ṋ̴̥̼̲̫̹͕͎̮̟̈́̈́̾̐͆͗͝t̸͔̪͖̥̮͍͈̻͒͋̇̐̾͝

Atsumu turns, frowning at him, "You cracked their backdoor?"

"Kenma did, I just followed his instructions," Akaashi leans down to kiss Bokuto's cheek, yawning as he trails away into a darkened room, "Please don't be too loud, I have to wake up for a 4AM start."

Atsumu nods, turning his attention back at the cursor in the middle of the screen, prompting him to type something.

"Oh right," Akaashi says, turning his head and speaking to Atsumu, "I asked around the hospital, no one seems to know a Sakusa. But there's a Sakusa that enrolled in the CCG Academy if that's the one you're looking for."

Bokuto frowns, "The Sakusa we know isn't involved with the CCG."

Akaashi shrugs, "Perhaps another Sakusa? Although that's a rare last name."

* * *

* * *

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_**Re：カフェ** **宮** **駆除  
**_ _宛先：CCG Main, CCG第16区  
_ _差出人： <noreplyautonews@ccg.jp>_

_**Re：カフェ** **宮** **駆除** _

_16区とその周辺の避難は0000シャープから始まります。 すべてのランク1の捜査官と一流の捜査官は、市民がカフェミヤの絶滅のために避難し、待機するのを助けることになっています。 さ̶͚̳̥̖̩̥̅̅̾́͘ら̵̨̟̫͛̿̌̓̕な̵̢̨͇̥̗͕͈̻̒̈̄̏͝る̶̼͓̟̟̮̖̋̈̌̐͊͐指̶͓̗̝͖̙̓͐̌̈́̓̑̽̒導̷̻̞͕͔̘͕̠̑͜と̶̧̩͖̜̰̓͋̉͐̔̚援̴̬̣̮̻̣͓̺͚͌̅̃̍̀̈助̷̮̂̉̉͋̿̄̆͝は̸̱̺̲̳̯͐̀́ͅ分̸̨̹̲͙̱̗̖͂隊̷̡̫̘̖͕̬̰͉̰͋͂͘͜3̸̨̜̦̾̔に̷̨̙̤̙̟̹͙̗̇̂̂̏̄̐̚͠͝よ̵̫̩̰̖͔͒̇ͅっ̵̪̭̺̥͎̖̓̄͆て̴̻̬͚̤̠͎͋̇͆̇̿̎͝͝与̷̬̯͉̫̫̼̹͖̊̈̅̏̇͊̕͜え̸̝̓̂ら̷̮͉̠̽̃̍̂̏͒̈́̚れ̵̛̱̐̌̋̋͝͝ま̵͇̼̭̜̗̝͛͜ͅす̸̩̠̦͚̩̥͉͎̰͐̏͘̚͠。̴̠͈͉̳͚̯̜͆̈́͛_

_̶̢̻̳̜̲̬̄̅͋͠ͅ ̷̦̼̼͈̥̱͒̇͌̇͝重̴̢͉̘̲̟͇̠̣̼̃̄͊̉要̴̧̛̬͎̞̩͈̇̊̍̅̿̅͋̚̚な̶̯͓̔͌̆̈́̓̀͆ͅお̴͓͉̠͓̌͆̓͋͜͝知̴̲̳̗͍̥ら̵̥̕せ̸̦̝̙̹̳̳̮̔̽̅͑̔̕：̵̨̪͚͚̭̰̘̩̠̊̉̈́̂̍̚͝こ̴͎̥̹̼͇͖̣͔̊̀の̶̡̭̫̙̜͖̬̮̙͔̄̒̉メ̵̬̖̺̟̰͕̤͓̙̅̈͠ͅー̶̧̥͖͚͉̊̆̆̿̈͝ル̴̧̢̜͔̎͛̃̋͌̃送̷̧̨̙͕̬̦̫͊͘͠信̸̳̱͈͙̠̗̆̔̊̏̔̓̑̄͝と̵̡̢̘̤͙̦̩̳̣͛̎̊̾͑̒̚添̷̙̥̦̥̜̅͂̂̈́̽̈́͒̽̚付̸̞̉͆̍̈̐̚フ̶̛̩͍͖̂́̿͋̓͝ァ̶̨̳͉͈̓̀̇͘͠イ̴͉͙͍̖͘ル̴͚̹̙̹͛̄̾̎͝に̶̨̛̔̇̐͠͠は̸̹̹͈̣̖̘̮̬̈́̈́͑̈̇͊̄ͅ、̸̮̞͚͎͎͉̺̙̣̞͌͊̆適̴̥̥̄͘切̵̬͎̮̫̯̼̀͌͐͌̄̚͜͝͝な̶̨̨̨͉̤̍̃̑̐̄͆͠͝ラ̵̯̌́̽̍̊̿̚ン̴̥͊̋̂͑͋͋キ̵̡͚̲͎̳͓̦̫͐̈́͋̆̔̄͘ン̵̡͕̼͔͑͐̈́̔グ̴̢̠͎̊̈́̏̉と̸̡̢̛̤̖̮̗͕͙̀͋̂実̷̧̨̫̼͈̞̭̠̓̅̂͒͋̔͠績̷͎̪͎̞͎̈́̃̄を̶̫͒̐̊̈́̔̐持̸̧̡͖͙͕̫̼͖̙͑̋̽͋̈̂̓̕つ̴̝͔̭̖͔͍͐̿̓̓̈̌̚調̶̧͕̱̥̖͇̝͊̏̓̾査̶̝͘者̸̭͐̌̀̿͒͘の̶̡̱̬̺̙̠͔̙̰͆̈́͋̍̓̐̕知̶̛̪̼̎͂識̵̠̹̻̳̦̱͕̤̰͂̈́̑̃͘̚͝ͅと̵̫̤̈̇̈̾̓̓͝͝使̴̪̟͉̟̠̗̬̺̣̙̈́̍̂́̒用̴̻͉͇̜̫͎͖͖̂̔̍͒̽̉̓̿͋͝の̵̟͕͐̍̇み̵͈͎͚͎̯͇̣͉̏̈́̓͊̿͐̈́̑̈͠を̶̢̢̡͇̰͉͔̻͚͈̋͐̀͋̚͠͝目̴̛̘̼̹̥͇̮̹̊̊̋̐̏̕ͅ的̷̫̼̫̘̠̬̟̞̒̎͊̋ͅと̸̢̮̦̫͛ͅし̸̨̗̼͕̜̝̦̆͑̓̔た̶͖͍̙̱̼̙̺̈́̑͊̍̉̒͑͋͝ͅ機̷̱̮̼͈͖͕͓̳̘̇̎̌͆͜密̴̨͇̥̻̳͖̭͉̒情̴̢̦̼̆̈̅͜報̸̗̘͚̭̗͐̋が̸̠̟̫͎͔̮̖̥͊͐̒̆含̵̡̠͔̤͙̝̰̙͂͐̈̍̓͠ま̶̰̯̺̻͖̾͘͜͝れ̴̢̢̮̤̯͎̲̋̄̄͌̎͘て̷̤̈́̍͠い̶̛̞̩̣̰͙̞̟̖͓͕͐ま̶̯̩̇̽̓͋̆́す̵̨̨̮̟͎̲͚̅̂̍̐̕。̶̱̊͒̕͝ ̸̧̛̬̜̥̜̬̺̱̘̆̈͋̐̋̕̕͝ͅ第̶̛̩̗̅̈́̓͑̾̒̈́͐三̴̪͆͋͝者̴̱̠̹͖̻͙͗̊の̵̠͊͠サ̵̙̗͇͇̰͆̀̓͌̌͆́͗イ̵̮̹͓̠̘̹͎̯̈́̑̽̓ト̴̙̪̝͙̮̼͓͓̜̍̈̆や̴̛͉̬̰̣̹̠̍̽͗ニ̷͈͍̃͒̌͂̿̏͊̾̇̿͜ュ̵͖͕͚͕̻̇͒̒̇͊̇̆ー̶̬̥̥͕̪͇̻̬̳͋̾̊̈̃̏̀͊͜ス̸̧̺̬̀̌ア̵̢͕͓̖̦̘̳̥̅͗̒̈́͆͑͒̏̇̚ウ̷̙̰̿͗̌͋̽͐ト̵̼̣̱͍͇̜̂̈̑̓̐͝レ̶̜̑͆̇͊ッ̷̛͚̙̬̘̙̲͔̓̐̑̈́͋̚͠ト̷̼̱̖̗̳͈̦̱͐͝͝へ̸̨͍͎͚͇̺̓͆̈͂̌͠の̷͙͔̥͓͂̆͒͘͜͝情̵̢̼̱̪̘̠͔̱̦̞̒̌̈́́̏̿̆̾̐̚報̸̧̢͇̬̥͓̺͛̄̒̃́ͅの̸̧͈̻̫̪̭̞̯̼̙̓̐͑̈́̊̆̔͘配̶̗̈́̅̾̈́̓̄̚͝͠布̸͇̲̂̽̃̏̋̍は̵̡͍̘̮͔̟̏́͂͊̎̎͋̓̐固̶̣͖̊͐̉̏̆̂̕く̷͈̠̚禁̷̛̫̉̈́͘じ̷̦̯̱̝̅̒̔̊̍̂̿ら̴̛̱̪͕͈̗̫͉͈̪͂̓̀̃̿̽͊̏̽れ̶̞̜͋̓͋̈́̉́͗̿͠て̵̡̢̛̛̦̱͕͉͎̣͕̼̈̇̐̏い̴͓̲̲̯̄̋̎̇͝ま̶̥̥̄́͑̍̎す̷̻̥̥̬̓̏̽̓。̴̢̠̭͖̠̾ ̵͚̹̈͋͑̿͒̍̊͝こ̴̢͍̣͙̘̱̜̣̟̐̀の̵̬̯̘̞͚̫͐͂メ̵͇̭̩̯̲̱̝͛ͅー̸̨̛̣͚͕̥̱̥̝̾̉̅̃͝ル̷̻̦̆͒̒̄͗̓̾͐̕͠を̶̞̰̔̑͛͜誤̸͈̌͐̾̉̄̀̕っ̴̯̰̾̇͛͌て̸̩̓͛̌͛̾͘̚受̷̢̛̞̖̤͎̥̬͔̖̟̿̈́̌̅̽͛̒͝け̸̖̯̤̖̹͚͛取̵̙̘̓っ̷̢̧̛̙̣̝̞͇̗͍̥͗た̸̰͍̮̲͔̞͍̠͕͗͊̔̽̔̒̉̌̚場̷̠̫̬̋͑̃̓̂͋̓͊合̵̞͔͓͖̠̍は̵͔̮͖͔̞͛̈́̊̍、̸̧̡̛̱͍͛̎̾す̵͇̻̔ͅぐ̴̧̖͉͇͙̘̀͘に̸̧̬̤̬̯͖͒͂̕削̵̨̊̓͌̃̈́͂̓̾̽̕除̵̤̗̍̾͌̄し̵̧͖̳͓̣̻̱̋̔̆̑̓̋͑̑̚͝て̶̞͈̫͇̱͎̹̗͔̋̂̀、̵͎̒̓̍͒̚͠セ̴̰̹̼̺̫̲̞̦̳̀̒̈́̊́キ̵̡͙̳̻̘̗̘͊͐̾̿̓ュ̷̟͈̒͛̾̃リ̵̢̢̮̹̞͊͌͋͛̓̅テ̷̰͑̽͛͌̚͝ィ̷̺̱̪̰̆̄͝デ̴̬̥̤̽ス̶̡̍̂ク̷̲̂̈́̑̒̓͋に̵͖̣̫̦̣̬͙̥̅̃̐̐͑̉̎̕͜お̴̲̟̹̝̝̬̹̊̆͜問̷̧̨̙̻̟̹͎̮͇̜͊͆͑̀̃い̷̬͊͌̏合̵̰̖͉͈͛̑̈わ̶̧̨̛͔̹̬̠̓̏̽̎̕͝せ̸̩̼̖̪́̆͋̽͗̄͜͝く̸͚̬̹̬̱̃͛̔͒͂͝だ̷̨̻̻̫̗͍̄̏さ̷̧͎͙̰̗̘̫̄̾ͅい̶̛̤͇̖̻̟̳̘͖̥̟̇͌̐̕͝。̷̳̯̬̟̳̹̼̺̄̾͆͗̊̓̽͆̕̚_

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JYP>>>ENG

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**_Re: Cafe Miya Extermination  
_** _To: CCG Main, CCG 16th Ward  
_ _From: <noreplyautonews@ccg.jp>_

**_Re: Cafe Miya Extermination_**

_Evacuation of the 16th and its surrounding wards will begin at 0000 sharp. All Rank 1 Investigators and First Class Investigators are to help citizens evacuate and be on standby for the extermination of Cafe Miya. F̶͎̞̘̯͇͚̅ũ̸̗̮͇̭̦͕͎͉͑͒ŗ̸̛͚̫̤̼̭̇̓̍̀̌͜͝͝t̸̰̻̩̙̥̝̦̎͗ͅh̵̖̲͎͕͈̍̈͌̅̈́͗͐̓̕͠ͅe̴̢̡̦̝̞̺͈͗͛̇͋̆̋͒̾̌̌ȓ̷̞̘͖̤̇̊̎͑̍̆̉͜ͅ ̷̢̛͉͕͉̙̌̑͌̆í̵̧͔̮̲̗͉̈́̉͋͗͆̂̂͠ņ̴̐s̶̢͈͑ẗ̵̥͔̫̝̋̏̂̈͂̈́͠͠ṙ̴͔̞̣͊̉͜ͅu̴̧̧̼̹̠͎̠͖̎͆c̷̱͑͑̈́̈̈͘͘͝t̵̢͉͍̻̗̤̯̰͚̔̓́i̸̤̯̤̯̯͛̓̈́̓̈́̆̕͝ở̶̧̭̪̥̲̝̜͖̱́̾͛ͅn̸͓̩̤̪̖͇̐̍̃̍s̶̯̘͙̦͚̏͆̓̄͌̈́͘̕̚͜͜ ̷͓̘̑̓̅̑͐͠a̸̛̰̼̳͋̌̕n̸̖͈̤͎̠̪͉͛́d̶͚̝̱͕͖̘̼̗̈́̓͒ ̵̞͙̲̌ą̶̞͍̤̼̦͖̭̖͌̑̾̒̄̈́͝i̶̫̤͇̫̘͖͍͓̱̐ͅd̷̲̜͖̝͙̪͆̅̏̾͜͠͝ ̴̧̢̼͔͓̥͎̮͍͓͒̆̔͗͊͌̽̂͠w̷̢̯̘͔̲̮͓̩̦͑̈́̚i̵͓̫̩͂͆̈̈́̋̀͂͠͝l̵̡͇̰̹̘̖̭̤̼͈̾̌̽̃̒̊̄̈́ḽ̸̡͔̳̬͕̻̱̍̇̄̎̚ ̸͚͈͙͕̣͔͉̓b̴̛̼̅̍̄͠͝ę̷̫͎̬̺͚̥͈̅̌̋ ̶̱̤̿͊g̵̰̙͑̅̓ï̸̬͖̗̟͔͍̼͜v̶̢͖̜͑e̷͙̻̲͔̜̭̓̌̃̈́͌̈́̑̓͠n̴̙͍̲͉͚͍̞̥̓̔̓̀̏̐̚̚ ̴̼̥̫͎̞̥̀̈́̅̇͜ͅǫ̴̫̯̗͈̾̽̈̄̓̓ñ̶̳̙̟̹͍̣͔̣̻̉͂͑̅͗̕͝ ̴̧̛̬̙̻̻̥̙̼͖̎̅̏͘͜t̷̳̫̜͎̯̠̥̹͇̿̋̇̽͊̒̚ḩ̷̲̗̥͐͒̋̅ę̶̲̭̜̭̦̱͛͒̔͛̊ ̵̛̺̪͈̼͙̤̱͗͌̀̚̕͜͝d̸̡̛͕̜͉͔̩̹̠͈̒͗̉a̸̜̖̹̗̹̪̱͚̎̀̆̈́̅̕ͅy̴̫̫̲̟̯͔̞͌̈̈̎̕ ̷̪̳̭̦̖͖͎̗̯̼̋͒͋͘o̸͍̙̒̉͋͆̄͊͘f̴̢͛̈́̍̔͒̈̌͝͝ ̸̣͓̋̌̑̿͠͝͠ẗ̴̨̡̩̠́͂̏̿h̵̻̙̠̟͔̮̜̄̓͛̏̉̐͗ͅė̸̢̯̣̼̺̺̖̠̔̌͠ ̶̻̩̘̰̑̿̄̿̈̆͐̃͜͜o̶̦̟͑̀͑̋͘̚p̸̡̛̫͚̖̱̠̟̂͑̓̆̿e̷̗̭͕͚͆͜ͅr̸͚̯̲̼̰̗̬̫̩̆ą̴̡͔̦̻̙̙̠̏̏͐͗̑͛͘̚t̸̛̟̺͆͐ï̷̹͉̜̪̜̮̳̆̅͝o̸̢̡̰̮͚̻͖͇͇͋͋ͅn̶̨͓̗̫̫̘͛̽͌̋͝ ̷̗̱̹͚̝̲͍̗̣̰͗̏b̸̝͇̣̋̈͆͛̈͘͠y̸͉̗̤̝̺̯̦̲̭̽̾̉͑̆̈́̈́̈́ ̸̡̧̣̹͖̻̫̪͓̰̃̐͂̔̍S̴̃́̈́͜q̶̡̢̠͈̭̺̑̍͌̂̌̾͗͠u̶̫̳̩̤͕̐ä̴̬̲͕͈͍̖̤͔͚́͂̿͛̾̕ḑ̶̖̗̰͔͚͎̮̐̇͂̕ͅ ̶̰͖̩͍̱͉̹̦̅͘3̸̨̨̱̭̘̱̠̾̈́̀͜͜.̶̻̞̺͕̒̄͑̐̚_ _̷̊̉_

_̷̤̲̓̓̔̏̀̌͝I̴̟̯̙̪̩̬͓͉̾̄͜͠͠m̸̧̟̺̟̥̜̦͙̭̓͐́̌͊p̸̝̱̐̀͜ơ̶̡̰̲̙͖͛̆̎̓̒̓r̷̩̮̮͉͕͉̳͊̑͜͝t̴̢̡̳̼̳͈̞̹̠̅͐̈́̽̄̊͊̈̋͝ä̵̧͒ǹ̵͓͈t̷̝̦͕̬̬̲̻̃̂̋̑̀̌ ̷̩͓̞͇̟͚͌̓̄̋̿̾̍̐͜͜͝n̴̥̲̬͈̰̩̯̂̉͝o̷͇͓͖̝͛͗̓͛͗̚t̷̢̢̛̼̐̑́̉͛i̶̞͕͕͓͎͎̰͈̲͓̓͛̈̋̄̈̕̚͠c̴̮̦̥̠̅̄̎̂ė̶̙̺͙̗̈́:̷̯̼̝̖̯̥̫̈́ ̵͎͍̅͌̎́̏́̉͘͝t̴̡̛̼̣͌̈́̀͗͠h̴̡̡̛̜̭̠̞̽͋͛́̍̾̕͘ͅỉ̶̞͈̔̈́͌̉͜s̷̳̭̈̓̈́͂͊̅͂̂͘͜͝ ̵͎͕̏̈́͒̀e̷̘̯͉̯̳͉̖̦͑̔̔̇̎͒̅͊͝m̸̢͚͈͎̐͝ͅa̷̡̤̻̪̥̽̄͜i̷̩̭͔̟͔̘͖̥̺͂̏̏̕̚l̵̢̋̏ ̸̧̯͖͓̮̓̐̑͆̅̄ͅͅţ̷̡̡̖̗̰̦͙͚̹͌̓̀r̸̛͚̖̮͎̪̜̳̭̞̿̆̓̂̐͊͛̑͜a̵̧̺̓̍͠n̶͉̿̋͆̄̚s̸̛̺̔̋͒͋͋̈́̈̆̕m̸̠͔͕͂́̒̐̎̈́͝͝ỉ̵̢̫͇͇͕̺͇̭̮̽͘ş̴̛̛̃̍̿̌̕s̷̛̛͇̝̒̄̀̒͝͝ͅi̸̛̠̝͈̘̫̟͂̈́̊ͅo̸̤͚͓͂̈͑͂̑n̵͓̮͔͋ ̶͇͊a̶̡̮̝͓̹̺͖̗̫̽́n̵̢̪̗̲̱̲̏͗̌̇́̊̑̚͜͝d̷̢̛̹͇̖̼̮́͑͌͝ ̴̣͙̬̀͂͆͂̄̎͜͜â̸̝͠͠ṇ̷̥͈͂̅̄͋͑͊̾͠y̵̺̬̼̥̹̥̔̒̈́̊̚ ̴̲̪̱͈̤͋̑̿͑̆à̵͔͜c̷̛̼̣̗̲̮̣̯̭̪̔̔̈́͗̈́̉̚c̶͖̤͉̩̜̈͂̾͊͛̈́̔o̵̟̟̖̞͐̀͂̉̊̕m̴̨̩̦̈́̊ͅp̵̜͐ͅa̵̟̳̟̪͂̿͌̅́̎̈͐͒n̸̢̛̍̈͋ȳ̸̢͎̇̍̑͜ȉ̸̝̓́̕͘͝n̷̹̰̽͑̈g̸̙̾̈́͝͝ ̶̨̲̖͈̩̥̄ą̵̛͔̈̊t̷̩̹͔̖̖̿͋t̷̼̺̞͌͂͒͐̽͜͝a̸̟̰̫̱̘͉̋̏̾͛̕͜͠͠ç̸͇͍̞͊̃̊̈̇͒̄h̶͓͉̝̮͙̟̽͌̎̒̕͠͝m̴͍̼̈͂̽͆̔ê̵̜͍͎̻̥͙̭̫͗n̸̛̛͈̻̘̬̘̽̊̆͊͊̊t̵̝͇̝̦̄̍̈̑̃̌̽̕ş̴͍̬̥̘̼͙̼͕̺̓̑͛̆̃̐͝ ̴̖̹̟͒͗̾c̷̯̞͍̘̲̠͙͒̂͂͝o̶̘̘̪̯͍̊̃̔͑͑̓͘͝ņ̶̬͇͓͍̮̊̒̕t̸̤͚̠̣̄̔̅̓̕͝a̴̛̱͍̎͆̍͐̓̇̍̚͘i̵͔͇͔͌n̸͖̑̍̿̀̆̏̾̌ ̷̨̧̰͍̩͔̑̈́͒̓c̶͚̣̬͂͌̂̏̓̑̇̈ȏ̸̧̗̮̞̗̞̞̰̟͎̚ṅ̷̲͚̥̭̲̬̱͉̌̄̾͛̌̿̀̑͜f̴̨̞͉͓̈́̌̔̈́̔͆͝i̸̞̓̈́͒̅̇d̶̥̳̼̞̹̫̖̐́̔̅͆͋̔̈́͝è̶̖n̸̡̻̤̣̮̖̩̳̈́̌̔͠͠ͅt̵̛̤̠͒̊͘ȉ̸̹̊̾͋͐̕ă̵̡̬̤̣̝̻̭̈̈̌͋́̆̇l̵̞̪̳̺̎͌̄̈̍͆̅ ̴̪̪̝͉̪̽̋͛̃ͅi̵̳̤̫̪͂̈́̋n̶̡̧̢͙̘̙̦̖͔̿̊̓̽͂̍͘̕͝ͅf̴̡̩̩̺͖̤͈͖͗͆̌̇̚o̶̠̾̚r̶͖̬̲̲̝̯͎̓̌̈́̈̃̂̈m̸̫̫̖̩͇̈ầ̵̟̭̟͓͖͔̲͚̱̏̄̄͗̈́ͅṫ̶͙̥͓̭͚̩̤̫̾̂͝i̷̢̺̠̞̩̟̩͙̬͐́̃̓̎̈́̾̚̕ͅo̴̺̰̥͈̫̐̈́̔̄̕n̶̢̝̠͓̥̯̮͔̳͋̉͛͂̐̈̒̈́ ̴̢̺̦̜̩̺̗̱̒̑̋̈́͐̿̍̽i̵͕͝͠ǹ̶̘͔t̷̨̮̘̟̘͊̎͊̑̒͛̒̓̂͝e̴̥̣͎͖̠͚̓͋̍͒̑̾͛͘̕n̸̜͠ḍ̷̰̖̹̜̖̩̭͈̊̇͗̈́͊̏̆e̵͈̖̿̈́̉̉͛ḑ̵͔̥̦̇ ̶̧̧̘̰̠͇͎̺̹́̀̾̑͜f̴̪͓͎̣͖̦̥̠́̿̈́o̷͚͓̫̹̲͙̬̺̻͕̓̈̚r̵̥̺̈́̊͗͒͒̈́ ̵̹̔͌̎̋̓̕o̴̱̻̣̱͈͠n̸̨͈̭̼̞͈̚ͅl̷͓̘͙̳͕͙̊ÿ̵̢̦͇͈͙̬͓͙͉͚́̈́̀ ̵̻͈̫̙̂̓̇̊ͅt̷͉̳̙̟̜̹͗̆̌͋͝h̷̢̼͎͖͍͍̞̍̃̆̋͝e̵̬̮̪̱̩̩̲͛̔ ̷͉̠̮͛͛̂̒͂̑̒̓̍̏k̸̰̰̲̟̿̋̄̈́̈́̈͑̆͝ͅn̵̯̲̐̑ȯ̴͓͈͙̜͍̤̥̥̀̑w̶̮̥̿͋͑͑͌l̵̝̖̰̉̈͛̚e̴̳͌̒̎̃͑͋̚d̸̫̭̳̿̆́̑̓͠g̶̛̫̲͓̞̱͇͍̤͑̿͆͛͂͛̑͘e̸̳̰̬̺̩͗̒́̆̿͘̕̕͠͝ ̴̜͔̝̘̜̲͙̩̞̏̋́̀͋͊a̷͓͊͝n̷̛̙͍͇̤̯ḑ̸̡̧͉̥̤̹̥̦̉̈́̆͜ ̸̡̨̛͎͓̞͙͓̹͙͌͠u̴̹̫̠̗̫̼͇̝̓́̓̆̚ş̶̡̠͓̮̘͖̻͙͝ȩ̷̨͓̹̫̰͇̜͈̓̇̐̍̇͛̕ͅ ̴̪̳͈͎͔̗̽̾̏̕o̵̮͛͒̓̋̈́̐̂̆̇f̴̨̹͎̮̪̥̲̔̓̒͝ ̶̡̢͈͔̖͇̰̟̼̎́͗͋̑̊̄̒́̕ỉ̸̘͕̀̈́͆͒̇̈́̾͝n̶̤͉̯̓͛̚v̴̡͚͖͇̞̺̓̍̊͌̊̓͛̕͘͜ë̴͉̗̣̲́͑͛̌͌̈́̽͐s̴̢̱̼͙̮͐̐ͅt̶̬̹͍̐̇͘͠ͅỉ̶͕̺̻̤̫̼͓̳͊̉͌͛͋̒̉̽͝ͅĝ̷̛̜̀̈́̇̌̍a̵͖̻̦̺͉̎͐̏̍̍́͘t̷̩͉̬̓̔̈́̒̔ơ̵͓̤̠̥͆͂͊̿̅̕͘̕̕r̶̡͖̮͇̪̄̊̈̍͊̾̑̎͝s̶̰̭̮̪̮̱͖̒̇̈́ ̸͖̗̼̹̤͊̈́ẇ̸̲̱̠̓͆̍̾̈͋̐̿͘ĩ̵̛̗͙̦̻͇̯͈͈͕͖͂͂͌̅̏̋́̀ṫ̸̨̨͍͔̮̝̲͈̭̉̈́̆ḩ̸̤̘̙̲̣͓̠́̏͝_ _̴̡̧͈̿̊̎̓̍͒͘̚͜͝͠t̷̛͔̝͉̦̞̉̄̔̃͋͌̎͠h̴̤̦̦̪̲͇͙͔̬̉̆̊̽́̾ͅĕ̴̡̗̳͎̝̦͉̮̩̍͂͑ͅ ̶̭̖̦̠̖̯̤́̓́̔͜ͅͅa̶̲̪͖̲̦̥̟̤͜͠͠p̵̛̼̙͈͚͓̘̹̣p̴͓͈̲̩̖̉͆̊͛͊͌̋̎̏͆r̴̢̯̹̅̓̔͆̑͘ȍ̸͇̹̟̞̟͙̍̇̽̀͘̕͠p̷̨̢̭̳̫̤͓̪̋̔̌̑̄͐̏͂͠͠ṟ̸͓̖̤̬͇̼̯͈̉i̴̧̡͉̥̙͂̅̃̍̋̈́̈̍̉̒a̶̢̦͓̳̠̓̾̒͜t̴͖̯͈̲͕̲̍͌̆͐̉͝ę̷̮̘̭͓̼͎̏̄̄͗̃̿̑̚ ̴̛̩͕̤̟͋͂̊̍̎͒̕͜r̸͍̝̺̲̞̺̀ą̸̨̨̱̭̩̺͌̀̈̑̎̈̆ͅn̶̢̮̗̘̻͕̟̳͊̌̈͐̈́̔͝͝ḳ̴̜̱̮̥͔͔̘̦̐͗̄i̸͙̰̰͚͖̺̩̹̘̭̍ň̵̲̩̣̫̹̟̦̜̹̅͌͜g̵̢̢̺̤͍̫̟̞̰͗̈́ͅş̸̺͛͛̂̅̽̉ ̵̗͇͉̏͒͋͂a̴͔̳̥͎̱͔̹̖̜̭̿͆͑̈́̓̚n̷̘̓͗̃̚ḓ̷̼̓̆̈͋͗͘͝ ̷͍͚̏̎̌̂͒̃̀͘ạ̵̛̩͚͔̙͓͙̳̀c̸̨̢̬̻̪͕̮̱̤͒́͆̓̈́͜h̶̬̗̝̼̣͙̖͛̓̉͜į̵͍͎̯̤̮̔̈́̒̏̕͝e̴̠̲͓̰̜̝̪̼̖͂͊̀v̸̨͎̺͙͆͂̽̇͆̒̑́̋e̸̡̺̱͚̬̯̠͋̃̀̏͌̕m̷̞͚̜̊̋̄̔̓̚ȩ̷̳̒̏̓͋̐n̴̡̼͒͆t̵̗̞̟̹̟̗̦͊̊̂̈̀͛̈́̈̚͝s̸͈͇̼̼̹̯͑.̵̢̛͓̞̰͖̺̬̯͔̓̉͆̄̇̈́̏͝ ̴̛̜̓͂̌̐͝A̵̻̮̜̦̤̣̬̗̣͐̍̎͑̈̎͑̋̏̇ͅn̷͉͉̏̈́̾̎ÿ̵̖́̿͌̑̐̑ ̸̡̻̼̠̭̞̗̺̱̒̑̋̊̔͘͝d̵̡͇̬͈̰̖̗̘́ȋ̸̪̠̼̂̈́͑s̷̹̻͙̫͕̍͒̿̂̏͛̒̾t̴̤̜̠̘̥̥̺̺͖͛̍̏͜r̴̨̡̗̖͉̯͖̖̖̈́̽̂̉̄͐͆į̸̭͓̥̻͖̦̞͓̆̏͆͑̆͂͐͌͜b̶̡͔̑̈́̃̽͌̋͠ŭ̴͎̜̭̉͒̒̏͘̕t̷̡͇̲̣̮̦͌̋̏̚i̸̫̦͈̭̳̙͕̔̅̀̉̆̊̉̇͑͜o̸͚͔̣̖̓̈̿͊̀̎̇͘͝n̶͉̭̻͙̭̥̏̽ ̴̡͇̭̖̩͇̿͜͝í̷̢̡̮̪̓̊̂̿͑n̷̹̟̺͑͆̅̔̌̄̚ ̷̘̻̭̰̲̐̃̑͂̓͌͊͂͂̈́į̶̤͇̣̲̱̘͈̠̗̈͑̆̿n̵̙͓̖͆̓̒̂̓̀̈́͛͜͠f̴̬͕̭̹͎̫̻̀̌͗ͅơ̷̙͉̭̓̒͐̋͊̌r̸̛̫̘̻̫̭̼̩̬͕̪̒̕̚m̵̧̪̝͚͚̳͍̗̜͖͛̋̚a̸͔̗͓͓͈̖̟̱̗͗̿̀̎̈́͒̄̑̇͠ṱ̸̲͙̀̈́̋͑̐̽̕͜i̷̡͚͖͙͉͖͑͝ơ̵̤͉̙̘̺͈͙͉͎n̵̲̘͙̰̮͂͑̽̈́̾̐̕͠ͅ ̷̛̣͍͓ẗ̸̡̪͎̱́͋͋̄̾̌o̵̠̻͔̫͙͗̆̂̀̌̍͊ ̶̳͉̣̬͇͍̥̱̤͖̉͆͂̓̑̈́́͠ţ̴̡̘̗̟̯̙̋͋͆́̎̅͂̃̎̔͜ͅḩ̵͍̭̺̤̗͓͎̫̭͌̓͆͗̍͘͠i̵̫͓͚̬̣̼͔̞̦̖̇̐͒͑͛̕r̶̼̝͎̭̖̺͂̍̒̓̉͒͌͒̇͐d̷̗͖̙͌̓͌̓̆ ̸̝̠͈̖̻̠͝p̵̧̮̳̳̱͔͐̉́̏̿̓̂̕͜a̸̙̞̼̦̠̞̰̖̤̽̆̄̃̋͋̂͜͝͝͠ř̸̪̇̐̎̄t̶̛̺̭̉̀͐̋͊͠ý̷̬͈͈̺̩͕̳̰̭̽̽̐̔̑̀́͘͝ ̸̥͝s̴̻͛̀̈́͂̆͠͝i̶̢̞͒̋̀t̴̛̙̭̞̽̈́̎̀͋̕̚͘ẹ̵̛̘̬̤̙̈́͐̊͠ş̵̫͙̝̃ ̶̢͙͓̘̣̌̾͒̐͐̏̚ā̴̛͚̤̘̫̟̝͇̤̣̭͒̓̇͛̆̕͝n̵̪̫̱̤̗̹̟͍̰͑̄̀̉̌̃̚͝͝͠ͅd̴̡̧̳̠͉͎̺̲̐̔̚͜ͅ ̵̝̺̯̻͙͌̿̈́̒͝͠n̸̰̰͕̼̣̉̇̅͌̕͘ē̸̖̠̹̣̰͘ͅw̵̙̟̦̋s̶̯̭̖̦͈̩͍̈́͗̉͜ ̶̡̾̈́̽̄͆̌̔̂̋͘ó̴̧̡̡̰̺͚͔̳͕̪̄̏̑͂̇̽̈́ů̶̖͙̅̎͐̔̅t̵̡̢̜͖̮͔̠́̅͐͗͂ͅḻ̴̡̓͆̚e̵̜̥̞̯͙̤̅̏̒̀͘͝ͅť̵̝̙͉̰̲s̵̠̆ ̴̛͔̭̜̯̐͆̉̀͌̉̑͠i̴͓̟͋̍͌̈́̐͂̒̒̎s̷̢̧̹̭̥̦̣͛̅͗̈́̂ ̸̙͙̫̼̽͊̈́͂̆ͅŝ̷̯͉͎̭̻͔̤̝̒͆̒͘͠ṯ̸͕̫̥͍͓̹̤̃̑̉r̷̥̜͐i̴̧̡͖͎̣̭̤̲̭̱͌̄̐̊c̶̛̠̊̈́͒̑͝͠t̵̨͓̮̯̲͚̾͐͐̇̿͘l̵̡͍̞̝̼̅̉̽̄̆͐̃̌̓y̴̭̰͈͚̱̳͑͝ͅ ̵̡͙͈̰̘̳̯͚͚͎̄̑͗͌͘p̶͖̩̩̤͌͆̔̔̈́̅͜r̷̢̭̜͉͔̠͎̭̩̄̆̌̿́̓̇ő̴̖̍͂̆̄̆͛̈h̸̟̫͠i̷̤̗͕̓̃͋̏̿̓b̷͇͕̫̼̘̮̠̯̟͂̃͌̄̌͂̚̚i̷̾̊͂̅̄̃͗́͘͠ͅṱ̶̢̝̘͖̯̭͂̒͒ḛ̶̛̛̠̺͈̞̈͛̐̽͠ͅd̴̞̙̮̙͚̑̍̓̌̈́.̴̺͚̳̯̪́́́̿̽ ̷̛͚̈́̍̎̄͛͛̌I̸̙͖͈̗̝̟̿̕͜͝f̸̡͇̘͉̟̐̎̿̂̀̋͊ ̸̡̹͖̌̎͐̒̓̀̈́̓͂̆y̵̹̫̝̅̃̑̓̉o̸̰̍̊̈́̿̍͑̚͝͠͠ǘ̷̼̭͕̼̝̟̩̳̩̉͆̑̍̄͘ ̴̢̗̝͕̣̭̻͈͖̈́̓̌͘͝h̶͙̞͇̭̊̈́a̶͎͙̺̘̹͋̊̍̈́͝v̸̮͉̪͌̿͒̃̑̋͋̂̄̊ͅe̵͓̫̲̋̅͂̈̔͋͛ ̸͚̦͒̀͋̅̈́̓̐͂̈́̾r̸̡̐̄̋ȩ̸͕̠̰̰͕̞̬̀̍̽͑̄̐͒͝ͅc̵̨̣̱͉̣͔̟͍̉̎̉̽̎͗̏͘ȩ̵͔̻͖̼̗̟͕̺̀̂ḯ̴̥̙̱̫̻̳͂̉̾͐̄ṿ̸̓͗̋͛͜͝ė̸̢̧̡̤̮̬̫̫̫͗̈́͌͜͝d̷̗̙̩͊̏̑ ̵̰͎̆̎̂͑̃͜͠t̵̖̫̻̤́̒͌̏̄ẖ̵̡̮̀̇͑̓̑̔ĩ̷͙̻̰͝s̷̱̭͗͑͆͂̒̿̄̒̂͝ͅ ̶̨͓̭̬̰̖̳͉͒̽͆̆͋ė̷̮̤͉̙͙̺̱̳̝̾͜͠m̸̨̛̻͒̾͆̋̌̉̅̕a̶̢͚̪͕̻̮̘̦͋̔͗̋͘͘ỉ̴̭̪̆͒̌̍͛ͅl̶̫̓̒̊̈́͐̄̏̍͘ ̸͔̩̱̝̋̔͑͘͜͝i̴̡̨̭̳̰͇̱̊͠n̴̡̡̛̩̙ ̶̢̡͎̝̪͔̺̩̥̗͌̓̂̅̏̐͐̄e̸̢̝͖̣̖̺̜̟̹̰̐̉͂̑͛̂͗̃͋͘r̵̗͎̤̺͖͖͒̔ŗ̸̻͙̮̥́o̴̥͇̝̪̜͔̫̩̼̅̕͘r̸̢̨͍̣͈͈̹̲͋͊̏̈̚̕ ̵̫̒͌̊͆͝͠͝p̴̣̭̲̫̩̜̲̖̿́͜l̷͖͎̺̻̜̰͌͆͑͠ȩ̷̛͖͕̑̀̓̉̄̚ä̸̙̫͙͈̻̪̠̻́̈̓̔s̵̥̗̪̏̆̉̋͆̅͊̏̆͜e̸̟͌̆̕ ̶̯̥͉̺̯̳̿͑̄̏̃̇̔͂͜͝i̵̛̺̰̫̮̟̦͔͔̜̝m̸͎̤͔̙̭̐̎m̶̗̦̻̰̱̼̘͜͝ë̶̡̹́̽͛̾͠͠ḑ̸̨̛͓͈͍͆̈́̌̉̿͝ͅỉ̸̳͙̠͐̆̒̔̚á̶̡̢̞̼͖̳̩̒͑t̷̹͉̓̔̑̕͠e̵̛̯̪̥̪͔̣̘̐́͆̍̒̕͠l̸̢̡͖̳͇̺͔̾̒y̷̡̢̥̗̻̏̉̌ ̶̨͖͎̥̥̩̝̫̋̊͐̾͝d̷̬̆͑͒͘é̸͔̹͕̠̪̳̥̗̜̰l̴̤̜̩̋̀͋͂̎̕͠e̴̞͇̐̿͝t̴̜̜̖̤̥̖͍̏̑͗̈́̽͘̚͜ḛ̸̗̠̓ ̷̣̜̳̠̎̌́̎̅̂̎̓̑ą̷̮̫̟͓̤̥̣̰̥͗̎̓̍̈́̕͠͝n̶̺͖͖̰͍̺̆̎̀͘ͅd̷̡̘̰̘̟̮̥̾̏̓̎̂̽̏̉̕ ̷̣͕̬̻̞̤͒̎ͅc̴̦͐̋̌̓̎̋̀̕ọ̴͍̭̜̦̖̗̜̻͗̆̂̌̈n̵͔̳̩̫̣̰͂̿̄t̸̖̒̎̆̽a̶͈͈̹̙̰͔̗̘̿͌̈́̈́̽c̶̡̜̼̤͉͈͙̓͐̌̾͋̓͑t̷̪̺̗͇̜̋ ̵͉̜̤̫̟͖̹̫͒͊̌̉̎̀̚ͅy̷̤͔̓͋̌̋̅̎͐͠ớ̴̩̲̊̓̓̓̿͝͝͠ư̴̛͓͕̬͇̫͚̠̖̒̔͊̈́̌̍̕ͅr̷̥̹̙̈́͆͒̈ ̷̰̠̰͉͈͚̙̭͕́͋̈́̑͊̊̔̾̈́s̶̢̧̛̤͕̲̱̪̫̖͋̾̄͋͜͝ȇ̵̟̠ĉ̷̹̳̙̹̱͎̏̍͆͗̌ͅu̸̮̅̊̇͋̉͋͝͝r̵̪̩̆͐̈͛̓î̵͇͈̝̙̻͊̅̋ṫ̶̲̎ÿ̷̬̥͕͖͈̟̳̖́̒̏̅͝ ̵̃͂͆̍̈́͋̕͘ͅd̶̢̧̰͓͓̻͙͓͚͒̀̏̿͊̅̿͘͝e̴̗͍͋̐́̈́͊̄̏͆͝s̵̡̼͓̮͖̞͎̳̝͑̈͋͘k̴̡̦͗̅͝._

_._

_Y̷̧̡̢̛̥͔̦̭͇̯͓͌̀͗̏͋͒̒͑̅̌͠o̵̧̳̟̱͇̳͇̻̩̺͕̯̓̑̓̽̈̾̏̆̈̃̚͜ͅū̷̧̘̥̖͉̔͐̂̾͠ ̵̲̝̟̺̀̆̐̂͒̀̅͛͑̋͝d̴̢̨̛̤̲̘̺̻̤̬̳͖͚̃̑̑́̈̋̑̉̈͜͝o̶̰̫͎̤͗̈́ ̷̡̢̛̬̹̬̣̗͂̌̇̈́͗̄̏̒̆͗̾̽͒n̵̛̹͍̙͕͍̏̑̈́̈̃̓̑̆́̊͝o̶̻͕͍̪̞̼̦̥͆̌̅́̄̈́̒̓̑͑̒̽̅̓̕ͅt̵̩̠̞̯͓̮͍͖̖̳̼͙̭̤̥͗͐̓ ̵̲͙̞̘͔̱͇̪̲̣̮̙̘͒̓h̶̛̤̰̓̔͂̌͆̓͑͜a̸̡̩̤̺͔̘̺͋̋͂̌̇̀̓̿͐͐̐͆͜ͅv̴̨̨̛̗̩̼̦͚̙͔̒͑̔̎̓̊͜͠͝ę̵̧̘͈̬͔̖͛̎̐ ̶̡̨̬͉̤̠͕̤̬̣̗͔̗̳̘̉͊̆̃̾̒͝͠p̶̛̭͈̝͉̭͛̏͛̆̈͛̌̈́͑̌ę̴͇̭̳̦̠̱̠͇̼̙̈́̊̈̈́͜r̸̘͖̅̓̓̒͐̑̿̆̓̍̃͌͝ḿ̵̢̛̹̲̫̫͈̣̪̠͊͑̑̌̋̄ͅȋ̶̛̛̩̦̭̤̅̀̉͌́̓͒̚̕s̸̜͈̠͙̰̝͍̆̆̑̈́̎ś̶̡̰̪̗̻̣̲̼͓̐̿̽̎ͅi̷̲̳̲̮͈͓̞͕͔̙̦̗̽̔o̴̬͙̫͖͐͠n̴̡̦̙̼̘̠̩̝͔͖͛́͂̏̅̅̄͝ ̵̧̨̡̹̹̯̝̗̬̘̜̘͖̯̦̊̄t̵̳͈̑̓͊͋̾̍͐̂o̵̖̣̰̣̰͕̽͌͋̂̑͒͋̆͛͐͜͝ ̶̖̞̝̲̘̯̻͈͈͐̅͐̈́̒́͛̆̌̐̓͐v̸̧͔͓͔̤̍̓̂͒͑̄̊͘͝i̶̘̮͇̞͔̖̅̓̏̅̐̓͝͝ȩ̷͖͈̩̇͒͐͒͛͐̿̅͆͘͘̕͠w̸̮̞̏̂̒͒̋̂͐͂̕ ̸̫͇͙̣̇͐̏̿̿̎̈́͐́̈́̂̇̕͘t̸̳̹͔̖̫͖͔̫̺͎͈̒̂̆͌̔̑̓̇̈͊̇̿͜ͅh̵̜̯̆̽̽́̿̊̏͐̃͘i̸̧̧̛̪̤̠̪̮̻̠̩͚͔̙̇̽̊̍̎̽̊͑͛͊̋̌̏̚s̴̳͔̗̻͙̐̋̑́͐̏̋͘͝ ̶̳̘̼̪͚̓̏̓͋̈́̂͛͊̅̂̔ṕ̸̯a̴̜̥͙̗̙̘̽̓͛̈́́͑͂̓̅̐̾̅͝͝ģ̴̡̤̗̘̫̝̠͍̮̣̪̻̺͉̚e̴̬̅͛͑̀̏̒̾.̸̻̮̘͕̺͚̹͓̲̬̰̱̌̇̔̽́̊͑̀̄̅ ̶̢̨̛̰̬̩͖̜̜̝͈̖̱͖̍̊͗͑͗̅̇͑̈̽̓̈́͝_

_A̷̜̖̻̒͊ͅc̵̨̛̥̞̩̲̤̰̝͇̮͓̽̑̆̅̓̂̿͊͋͛̄̚͝ĉ̴͚̙̲̩̙̫̪̅̈͐̊̕͘͠͝͝ͅë̴̡̝̼̺̣͓͙̫͕͕̮́̐̏͑̆̿̈́͆̕͠s̴̩̰̟̣̲̓̌̂̄͂̑̓̚͘s̴̟̱̹͎̻̣̻̥͂́̽̇̏̊̒̎͋̔͗̑͝ ̶̡̛̺͇̫̞͔͚̤̘̣̻͙̒̈̌̇͌͂͐̆̎͊̈́̕͝ṛ̷͚͉̘͉̘̑͌͋̏́̃̽̒͛͝ė̶̛͓̩̫̘̯̫͙̰̃v̷̢̛͇̬̍̈́̄͂̿̋͋̐̚͘͝͝ö̷̡̱͉̘̞͉̹̼̜̞̞̬͈̣́̅̓͑̀́̚͜k̷̛̛͎͚͕̣̝̩̤̥̻̱̻̠̯͌̔̒̇̂̂͒͜ȩ̴̮͓̻̙̝̰̪̣̙̠̥͖̇͊̏͛̍̌͑̂͛ͅd̶̡̡̧̙̳̻͍̮̱͖͇͓͈͓̖͂̋̎̊̃̓̃̊̿̓͝͝.̶̣̦̥̈́̈́͂̈͆̈̑͋̍͠ ̷̥̥̗̝̆ͅ_

_Ỳ̸̟̭͓̯̫͈̟̣̗͋̏̃̿͂̌͊͊̓̃̕̚̕̚ő̶̡͈̹̳̳̰̯̮̭̠̝̲̲̳͐̄͛͑̓͋͒̉̌̍͋̕͝ͅṳ̸̡̰̖̹̭͖̺̟͈͔̘̗̖̓̽̾̌̅̓̾̋̈̉̚̕ ̷̳̳w̷̢̨̘̲̳̥̱̩̞͐͘ͅḯ̵̖̘̫̥̣̯̗̜̹͕̠l̷̯̓̅̏̇̀͊͂͒̀̇͂̆̚ļ̴̨̼͍͕̲̦̣͍̿̊̅̉͊͊͗̕ ̴̡̼̗͓̥̫̳͂̂͐̄̅͂̉̓̈́̿͒b̶̡̛̛̺̦͎̲̘̖͕̰̺̲̼͕̰͍͗̋͊̂͆͘͝͝͠e̴̦̽̒̑̂̈́͐̌͆ ̶̺̥̟̘̈́̌̈̈́̂̚ͅl̵̡̢̛͎͎͚͓̼̒̈́̐̒̌̓͒́̆̃̓̽͘͘õ̷̥̹͈̱̜̮̲̫̮͗͂͊̀͆̓̇̈́̀̈́͜͝g̸͔̲̖̤͔͚͎̈́̏̔́̏g̴̡̣͖̤̳̺̬͓͎͉̺̗̈̅̇͗̓̾̏͊̓̂͜͝ė̷̢̨̨͓̙̪̥̝̯͚̪͒͜d̶̛̯̝͈ ̷̧̯̠͇̳͙̤̯̝̰͛̐͗̋͝ǫ̷̢̛̘͊̽ͅu̸̟͋̿̈́̔̀̽̈́͗̉͝t̷̯͇̄͒.̸̛̹͕̫͔̯̭͔̘͆͗͛̌̋͜_

* * *

_Log out of ccgopen?_

_**Yes** No_

* * *

_Welcome, please enter your email and password._

_This system is the property of the Commission of Counterghoul. This system is for the use of authorized users only. Any unauthorized use of this system is strictly prohibited and may result in civil and/or criminal prosecution. All user activity on the system may be monitored and recorded by system personnel. Your use of this system acknowledges your understanding of this warning._

_Email: sakusakiyoomi@ccg.jp_

_Password: b07%siR8S?Fg_

* * *

_Welcome, Associate Special Class Investigator Sakusa Kiyoomi._

_You have 7 saved mails and 1 new mail._

**_Re: Operation Butcherbird  
_** _To: <sakusakiyoomi@ccg.jp>  
_ _From: <arimakishou@ccg.jp>_ __

_**Re: Operation Butcherbird** _

_Sakusa,_

_I'm glad to hear that the operation went successfully and that you're well and sound (even in the presence of a ghoul safe house). I will be the liaison between you and the rest of the Squad, as they do not have access to my personal email._

_There is not much to say. The office is quiet. Ihei misses your presence, she has no one to play cards with now. Aura-san is busy, as usual and Urie-kun is still in the Academy, studying. He's doing well. I've checked up on him per your request and will be keeping a close eye on him throughout your absence._

_Please do not miss your weekly reports. This is coming from a place of concern, not your superior asking for paperwork. If you're ever in trouble remember that we will come and rescue you._

_Komori-kun's post-humous awards occurred today. I attached a picture._

_I wish you could've been there. It's not your fault, what happened in the Underground Tunnels._

_No one blames you._

_Stay safe,  
_ _Arima_

_._

_._

_._

**_Re: Re: Operation Butcherbird  
_** _To: <sakusakiyoomi@ccg.jp>  
_ _From: <arimakishou@ccg.jp>_

**_Re: Re: Operation Butcherbird_ **

_Sakusa,_

_Thank you for your report. I'm glad the ghoul Inari and Silver For were able to accept you so kindly. I didn't forward the information of their tendency to take in orphaned ghoul children to the Chairman as it's not relevant, but I suppose they're not that much different than us, ghouls._

_I'm surprised to hear that Avarice is in close contact with Inari. He usually acts alone or with the Jackals. He offered to 'nibble' you? Interesting humor, I'm chuckling as I write this. I'm glad you're still intact and in one piece._

_From a friend, I hope you're adjusting to your new life. Please let me know if I can help you with anything._

_Stay safe,  
_ _Arima_

_._

_._

_._

**_Re: Re: Re: Operation Butcherbird  
_** _To: <sakusakiyoomi@ccg.jp>  
_ _From: <arimakishou@ccg.jp>_

**_Re: Re: Re: Operation Butcherbird_ **

_Sakusa, you've missed two weekly check-ins in a row._

_Stay safe,  
_ _Arima_

_._

_._

_._

**_Re: Re: Re: Re: Operation Butcherbird  
_ ** _To: <sakusakiyoomi@ccg.jp>  
_ _From: <arimakishou@ccg.jp>_

**_Re: Re: Re: Re: Operation Butcherbird_ **

_We will deploy and exterminate Cafe Miya if you do not reply within twenty-four hours starting the moment this email is sent._

_Arima_

_._

_._

_._

**_Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Operation Butcherbird_  
** _To: <sakusakiyoomi@ccg.jp>  
_ _From: <arimakishou@ccg.jp>_

**_Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Operation Butcherbird_ **

_I'm glad to hear you're safe. It's alright— the two missed reports. What matters is your health._

_Be careful,  
_ _Arima_

_._

_._

_._

**_Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Operation Butcherbird_  
** _To: <sakusakiyoomi@ccg.jp>  
_ _From: <arimakishou@ccg.jp>_

**_Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Operation Butcherbird_ **

_I don't care about the Shibuya Crossing Massacre. You will not be charged by the military police. This entire ordeal is wrong— I wanted to refuse on your behalf when Washuu Matsuri came up to me— what matters to me the most is you coming back safely. Aura-san is starting to worry._

_Squad Zero wishes you a happy Christmas and tells you to expect some "half-siblings" in the future. What they might be, I can't tell you now, but know that you won't be alone._

_Be safe, Sakusa_

_._

_._

_._

**_Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Operation Butcherbird  
_ ** _To: <sakusakiyoomi@ccg.jp>  
_ _From: <arimakishou@ccg.jp>_

**_Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Operation Butcherbird_ **

_Avarice is the lost twin brother of Inari?_ _There has never been reported cases of ghoul twins. Are you sure their stories match?_

_The transmitter's battery in your earring is reaching the end of it's life. Let me know where and when to rendezvous with you. Ihei wants to briefly see your kakugan._ _If you don't want to see her, let me know and I'll sneak away. We can get coffee at my apartment and visit Komori-kun._

_One last thing, Sakusa._ _I didn't want to say this in the earlier emails, mostly because I was relieved that you were replying again, but recntly the tone of your emails have been concerning me. I will gently remind you to keep your distance from the Songbirds. It's for your own good. Yes, they're nice ghouls but do not forget their sins._

_._

_._

_._

**_Re: Suspension of Operation Butcherbird  
_** _To: <sakusakiyoomi@ccg.jp>  
_ _From: <securityccg@ccg.jp>_

**_Re: Suspension of Operation Butcherbird_ **

_To Associate Special Class Investigator Sakusa Kiyoomi-san,_

_You are hereby suspended from all missions from here on out._

_An email to your immediate supervisor, Special Class Investigator Arima Kishou-san, has been intercepted by the Security Department of the Commission of Counterghoul on suspicion that you have been emotionally compromised by your assigned, as shown from one line of your email that read, "Do not forget their sins? They're trying to live too! It's not their fault they're born like this!"_

_You will be removed from the field effectively immediately. You are to report back to Headquarters by Monday morning at 0800. If you are not there, the CCG will see this act as treason and under Subsection 3, Category 5 of the Investigator's Oath, we will forcibly treat you as a ghoul._

_Thank you for your understanding,  
_ _Head of the_ _Security Department of the Commission of Counterghoul, Main Branch,  
_ _Miura Naomi_

* * *

_Delete 'Re: Suspension of Operation Butcherbird'?_

_**Yes** No_

_Deleted._

* * *

Atsumu opens his eyes blearily, his right arm automatically smacking the bedside table as he unlocks his phone, " _What the hell d'ya want, Samu?!_ "

He checks the clock, it's just past midnight. He was having an excellent dream—

Osamu's voice is short and haggard, " _We're under attack._ "

It's strange how Atsumu immediately sits up, all trace of grogginess disappearing as he sets the phone to speaker mode, "Gather up the children and hide them," He walks to his closet and pulls on all black clothing, making sure to layer up, folding a thin new t-shirt and tucking it in his pockets just in case he gets injured and needs to blend into the human crowd, "Have they started evacuation?"

" _Jus' did. I'm watchin' 'em right now across the street, I'm turning back and using a tunnel._ "

"I'll meet ya there."

He goes to his sock drawer, pulling it open and finding a bundle of cash that he slips into his pockets. He doesn't know why, but he has a feeling he'll need it after today.

He stuffs his two extra masks and exits his home, setting off in the direction of the nearest train station and hiding in an alleyway as he masks up and makes his way behind two tall buildings that are empty.

Underground tunnels connect Tokyo together. He crouches and looks around him. Empty.

Then he lifts up a manhole cover and jumps, catching himself on a rung and sliding the metal cover back. Atsumu uses the ladder to go down the sewers, following the lonely hallway and trying not to breathe the stench of garbage and rainwater mixed in.

When he reaches the common area behind the coffee shop's trap door, he sees Suna and Osamu standing around with several high school aged girls wearing pinched expressions, one carrying a younger ghoul sibling in their arms.

"You four should be hiding," He snaps at them from behind his mask. They all flinch, cowering.

Suna frowns, shushing him as he gestures to above, wearing a long, dark jacket with a large hood, "There's a squad of ghouls above. Many more are outside the shop's perimeter."

"You guys can't stay here anymore," Atsumu tells them, watching his brother frown, "I'm serious," He bends down, placing his open palm on the stone tiles beneath them. He could feel the reverberations of footsteps, of engines idling, "There's at least eight investigators with quinques that are just hanging around the area."

"Hide," Osamu tells the girls, watching them run away into the tunnels. He pulls on his mask.

Atsumu frowns, "Samu, what're ya doin'? Why don't ya just run?"

"Still waiting for one more person."

Atsumu gets a sinking feeling, "Sakusa?"

Suna nods, "He didn't reply when we texted him and his apartment is empty."

"Suna," Atsumu jerks his chin away, "Go try to find him again. I'll...fight with Samu."

Suna immediately takes off, disappearing in the tunnels. Osamu hums cautiously at Atsumu's declaration. 

"I—"

"Shut up, this isn't for you. 'M sure Ma would be mad if I didn't save your sorry Grade A ass."

"I'm glad you can flex that SS Grade of yers, _Avarice_. Let's see if they just overestimated yer shitty ability."

Atsumu only grins at him behind his mask, knowing that Osamu must know he's smiling. He crouches until he hears a muffled snap from his kneecaps, jumping up and lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet, getting his blood pumping.

"Let's go up and surprise them, I've been itching fer a fight."

"What? Like savin' Hinata from Cochlea wasn't enough?"

" _Nah_."

"Brute."

He's hiding.

Well, not exactly. It's not hiding if he's just concealing himself from enemy positions, his quinque strapped on his back as he peers out of the condemned building 

He fiddles the radio he hacked, trying to tap into the frequency Squad 3 are using. 

A burst of static. Sakusa clutches the radio like it's Atsumu's tupperware, hearing a bubble of voices.

"— _engaging with Avarice and Inari, requesting back up. Someone call the Main Branch and request for Squad 2's help!_ "

"— _Block the eastern side, civilians can't step inside, I don't care if they're drunk, get them out of the hit radius! We're gonna shoot them with RC Suppressants!_ "

Sakusa looks down at the files on Songbird and Torii he'd taken from his apartment, all copies from the originals Arima permitted him to take.

The mother died, brutally killed. The son evaded CCG radar and the older brother was presumed dead, all of them hoping that it dies a natural death somewhere in the 23rd ward. Life moved on.

And then eight years ago, because kagunes are passed down from parent to child, they traced Songbird— now Inari— to the 16th ward where it seems to be killing humans and stealing corpses left and right. Inari became a thorn to the CCG's side.

Sakusa was too important for them to lose in an operation by Kanou that didn't even guaranteed his survival, but Komori had pushed him out of the way in a fight against the Aogiri Tree and Sakusa wanted revenge. He was hurting and he wanted the entire world to burn.

He accepted his punishment to be a half-ghoul for not keeping his cousin safe. Arima had protested, sure, but there was nothing he could do hours away before Sakusa was launched into his mission, perfectly picked up by Inari as he wandered by the area and caught Sakusa trying to run away from hospital.

If the hunger of a ghoul was to be his punishment for the rest of his life, he'll gladly pay for it, or so he thought.

The pain was much worse than he expected. Sakusa doesn't remember the massacre at Shibuya Crossing, but he remembers the taste of human flesh in his mouth and shoves that memory deep inside his head.

And when he was welcomed into the ghoul world so easily, meeting Suna, Osamu, Hinata who drops by often for coffee, relegating tales of the leader of the Black Jackals, Sakusa couldn't do it.

" _Maybe I am, but with a body like this... I want to live too, is that so wrong?_ "

Sakusa had seen footages of Avarice. He currently belongs to Squad 1 to exterminate, but Sakusa flipped through all of the known ghouls in the registry when he was bored one day, scanning through and watching the way he fought, his kagune pulsing black with red veins, wrapping around investigators and tossing them out of the shot.

Atsumu's attitude was as bad as he thought. Sadistic, harsh, words laced with venom, no remorse shown for the people he's killed. He mocked Sakusa and told him he should give himself up for the CCG.

Yet.

Perhaps once he takes off his mask slightly, shifting it aside for a sliver of neck and chin to show, Sakusa realizes that no ghoul— or human— are that cruel from birth. Something must have happened to him when he was younger for him to be like that.

_"Yeah," Osamu said, bashfully scratching his nose, "We're brothers. 'M surprised ya caught it."_

_They're inside the coffee shop. Sakusa brings the cup of coffee closer, thinking how several nights ago, he sat in this exact seat with another son of Torii, the one that was written off as presumably dead, "You both sound the same sometimes. I can tell he's trying to suppress his accent."_

_"Sharp. Ya could've been an investigator."_

_Sakusa gives him a wry smile, "It's not for me."_

He hasn't been the only one who loss his family in this long battle between human and ghoul. Maybe Arima was right, maybe they're not so different at all.

They're people too. It was a matter of a coin toss to be born a ghoul. It could've been the other way around, Sakusa being a natural ghoul, forced to hide for most of his life with the Miyas terrorizing the upper echelon of the CCG with their skill.

Sakusa asked Atsumu once if he had nightmares killing people, even shunned him for it.

But he's done the same, hasn't he? Just differently, holding a quinque instead of letting a kagune do his dirty work.

The radio buzzes, "— _Requesting back up from Main Branch, SS grade Avarice has been upgraded to an SS+. He's showing signs of being a half-kakuja—_ "

Sakusa sucks in a sharp breath, poking his head out of the window he'd been leaning against, narrowing his eyes as he sees Osamu not moving, body curled up beneath a base of a tree as Atsumu's black Anubis mask falls, revealing a kakuja mask that wraps around his eyes. His nine black rinkaku tails are whipping back investigators, curling up and flexing as it blocks attacks from long distance weapons like cans of RC Suppressant Gas and bullet-styled quinques.

Sakusa watches as an orange-red ukaku bursts out of his shoulders, resembling wings as it wraps around his body like armor.

"You've got to be kidding me," He steps away from the glass as his headset yells, "He's a—"

"— _Chimera ghoul! Confirming that Avarice has Torii's rinkaku and another ukaku from another ghoul parent!— Back up, where are you?_ "

" _This is the Main Branch, we're sending reinforcements._ "

" _How soon? We're getting wiped off, he's engaging with First Rank Investigator_ —"

Sakusa sees a small disturbance on the street, immediately opening the window of the fifth floor building he's on.

The winter night is deathly cold. His fingers are stiff from curling up on the floor, not knowing what he has to do, not knowing what he _could_ do when he's stuck.

He leaps down, rolling and rolling in the air like a cat until he lands on the ground with shockwaves going up his ankle, causing him to fall over temporarily. Sakusa hooks on his mask, draws his hood up and runs for the coffee shop as he bursts through the trees, blocking Arima's advancement in Atsumu's certain death.

Arima's eyes widen.

" _This is Squad 3, Gluttony has come out to engage. Requesting back up, he's an S class._ "

" _Gluttony_ ," Arima addresses him, voice quiet, his glasses fogging up from the high collar hiding his mouth, "Step out of the way."

Sakusa has never beaten Arima once in a sparring session. The closest he's ever gotten was bruising Arima's chin that had been a fluke because sweat had gotten into his eyes and blinded him temporarily.

" _No._ "

Arima disappears from view. Sakusa blinks, confused, before he suddenly meets the eyes of Iizuna, an upperclassman from his Academy days, instinctively taking a step back, reaching backwards with his right hand and whipping out his quinque, the black and grey metal case snapping out into a fearsome scythe with a sharp, wicked curve at the end.

Iizuna stares at it then at him in horror, " _Kiyoomi?_ "

"Iizuna-san."

The radio in his ear buzzes with hushed voices, " _Sakusa's Gluttony?_ "

" _No way. I thought he was transferred to another branch_ —"

"— _Makes sense, anyone would be scared to show their face after_ —"

"You should've hid yourself," Iizuna hisses, swinging his quinque as Sakusa blocks him, parrying his swings as he keeps up a fearsome display of flashy moves that would definitely skewer him if Sakusa wasn't putting all of his one hundred into focusing, "You could've came back."

"I don't want to."

Iizuna gives him an incredulous look, "Torii killed your _own mother_ —"

He knows, he knows how his mother had been killed on duty, her head only hanging on by inches of flesh in an alley, "It was an accident, she was trying to save her own kids."

"What are you saying?!"

"I'm saying there's no one to blame for that! It was either her dying, or Torii dying! And Torii did die moments later! The way this world is set up," He blocks another attack and moves in close, smoothly swinging out his leg in a hook kick that catches Iizuna on the jaw, watching him crumple to the ground and kicking his quinque away, "Is wrong!"

Iizuna looks up at him, fearful. Sakusa realizes his kakugan must be showing, taking a step back when a noise he knows all too well enters his ears.

He turns.

Osamu is on the ground, helplessly being tugged up by Suna behind his mask, three investigators around them.

Atsumu is skewered on Arima's IXA, the blade going straight through his abdomen, half of his kakuja mask crumbling, revealing blood trickling from his mouth. He's choking.

_"_ _It's the cycle, isn't it? I'll kill them and eventually I'll get killed too and will probably turn into a quinque."_

Sakusa sees red. He brings his hand up to his mouth, clutching Tsukiyomi in his left hand and sinking his teeth, breaking past the skin and bones and sinew until he hits a vein and the pain triggers a spasm down his shoulder, his koukaku uncurling as he dashes towards Arima.

Atsumu is aware of two things. 

First, the pain from his abdomen again, a familiar ache as he tries to spit out the blood in his mouth, slitting his eyes open enough to see that Arima is holding him up with a cool expression, like Atsumu is a grasshopper in a bug cage.

The second is someone with a dog muzzle mask running towards them, moving insanely fast, swinging down a blood red kagune the shape of a drill that whips Arima back, Atsumu immediately cradled against a chest and quinque taller than him, Sakusa's eyes looking down at him.

"Atsumu," Sakusa frowns, a little fear in his eyes, "How are you feeling?"

"Hey beau'ful," He murmurs.

"Suna!" Sakusa calls out. Then Atsumu is tucked against Sakusa's side, the koukaku flattening into a single flat, shield that hides Atsumu out of view.

Atsumu's head rolls. He smells blood, lots of it, before something is wedged between his mouth and he's being told to suck.

He gladly does, tasting blood and dozing off again.

"—Mu, need some more—"

"...are we?"

"...hotel....rest for now...."

Atsumu snaps his eyes open, surrounded by plush pillows. He turns his head left to see Suna sleeping with his mouth wide open, Osamu's grey hair next to him, curled out of sight.

"Hey."

Atsumu turns his head right to see Sakusa look up from his phone, perched in a chair with all of his limbs neatly knotted, like a contortionist. Sakusa untangles himself, his knee and back cracking, stroking Atsumu's hair, "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," Atsumu groans. "I got speared, didn't I?"

"You did, thanks to you, Osamu and Suna only got mild injuries," Atsumu looks around the hotel room, seeing the odd decor. There's a collection of Hello Kitty plush on every single flat surface. The wall is hideously pink, the hotel phone is in the shape of a Hello Kitty, his blanket is pink and has paw prints on it.

"We must be in a love hotel."

"I'm glad you're so well acquainted with love hotels to know where we are."

Sakusa looks at the coffee table— there are their jackets folded in a neat stack like he's in Uniqlo. Next to it is a white briefcase with a trigger on the handle and a black, scuffed backpack he's seen in Sakusa's apartment.

"Eat."

Atsumu looks to see Sakusa with his shirt off, crouching forward with his shoulders curled. It's such terrible posture but Atsumu is focused on the way he extends his neck again, the last bite he gave Sakusa still shiny.

"Don't make me wait," Sakusa snaps, looking up with— with tears? There's a silver chain around his neck that he's been tightly gripping, "I'm free food."

Atsumu sighs and scoots over to the edge of the bed, trying not to wake his bedmates. He looks at Sakusa— shadows beneath his eyes, pale skin, his one ear bleeding, stud missing, his fingers shaking before cupping his hands together in his.

He squeezes Sakusa's hand, kissing his mouth with the pre-dawn light coming in from the gap in the curtains. 

He pulls, letting Sakusa's dog chain fall out to swing between them. 

"You should eat me before they hunt you down further," Goes Sakusa. Atsumu fingers the rectangle lightly, seeing the name _Sakusa Kiyoomi_ stamped onto the tag with Sakusa's blood type and birthday. "I'm a traitor to the CCG."

He says that with a dull voice. Atsumu looks up at him, smoothing his bangs away. He should be mildly angry about it all, but the explosive anger doesn't come.

"How come?"

"...I just couldn't follow them after...." Sakusa trails off, hand twitching to his ear, "Aren't we all just murderers? I've killed my fair share of ghouls."

Sakusa's eyes flickers over to the table. Atsumu understands. The black backpack, it must be a quinque.

"What'll happen to ya?" He whispers.

"I'll be treated like a ghoul," Sakusa says in an even voice, "Exterminated. They're probably opening up my office and emails and everything I own including my accounts, home and bringing in my family for questioning."

"Your mission was to what?" Atsumu laughs, he feels a bubble now growing in his chest, thinking about those memories of his mother he shared, how Sakusa pretended to stumble around fighting him, "Make friends with us?"

"No. It was to take down Inari. By luck, I stumbled on Silver Fox and Avarice," Clinical, cold, like the cover story he provided Atsumu and his brother. "The operation was called Butcherbird."

Atsumu stands, winding his hand in Sakusa's hair and clenching, not hard enough for it to hurt, but enough that Sakusa lifts his head to alleviate the pressure from his fingers, going along and being pulled, "But you gave up. You saved me an' Samu an' Rin."

"I did."

" _Why?_ " He demands, his eyes stinging. "You coulda returned to your family, you coulda been welcomed back with good graces, be promoted and lead a semi-normal life tha' three of us _would never dare to dream of!_ "

"Because I've been emotionally compromised!" Sakusa hisses, knocking his hand away and standing up, looming over Atsumu with the extra height he has. His kakugan flickers, "Because I realized how wrong this world is!" He steps into Atsumu's space, so unlike how he flinched and shuffled away from him months ago when Atsumu was feeding him.

"Because I fell for your shitty ass," Sakusa continues, cheek flushed from anger, the veins on his wrist and hands bulging. Atsumu has only seen him with training clothes or loose shirts with long sleeves— he can see the training of an investigator now clearly, flitting his eyes from the wiry muscles around his shoulders and chest.

"Because you three taught me that we're not so different," Sakusa ends, looking down. He sits back in his tiny chair, shrugging, "So do whatever you want with me. I don't have a family to go back to, Father and I have been estranged since Mother's death. My friends know I'm a traitor, I don't care."

Sakusa tilts his head down, his eyes hidden by curls as Atsumu stands there awkwardly at his outburst. His side hurts from something as simple as breathing.

Atsumu sits back down, rubbing his face and sighing. He sneaks a look to his bedmates who are all breathing a little _too_ evenly.

"Who's money is paying for this hotel?"

"Arima-san gave me his card when we scuffled. He said to withdraw money and run."

Atsumu finds that very hard to believe but he shouldn't look at a gift in the mouth, or however the human phrase goes.

Then Atsumu smells sadness. It reminds him of foggy grey mornings, how it snakes underfoot and curls around his face like a veil. Sakusa is fiddling with his chain, shoulders brought up to his ears.

"Thank you for saving us I guess."

Sakusa shrugs angrily, a foul look gracing his features.

Atsumu leans on his hands, looking at dawn coming up. He raises his leg until it touches the fabric of Sakusa's slacks, "Look, I don't know what my brother thinks but...I don't want to kill you."

"How reassuring," His voice is thick with sarcasm.

"You did betray the CCG for us," Atsumu admits. He hates talking. He prefers using his fists instead, "I'm certainly grateful fer...fer you fishing me out from getting turned into a quinue."

Sakusa doesn't reply.

Atsumu leans over and whacks Osamu's head, hearing Suna groan about Atsumu's fat arm pressing on his bruise, "I know you two are awake! Give yer inputs!"

Osamu leans up, the cut on his cheek still healing, hair mussed and shooting Sakusa an apologetic smile, "We didn't mean to eavesdrop, it's just hard to give ya privacy when Suna's heavy leg is chaining me down on the bed—"

"Oh don't fucking blame it on me, Miya—"

"—But I also don't think we should kill or kick you away," Osamu says. Suna shuts up and nods fervently, "You did...just leave everything for us."

Atsumu feels himself getting cavities, trying to look anywhere that isn't Osamu or Sakusa having a moment. 

"Samu," He butts in, "What're ya gonna do now?"

Osamu hums, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, "Dunno. Maybe open up another coffee shop. Not callin' it Cafe Miya again, obviously."

Atsumu jerks his chin towards Sakusa, not looking in his eyes and fiddling around with the handle of the white suitcase. This must be Arima's IXA that made a nice hole in his torso, "Make him work the register. 3 months probation."

Suna laughs, "And what are ya gonna do, Tsumu? Work the machines?"

"Nah, I'll grind the beans."

"We hand grind everything, you sure you can handle it?"

Atsumu leers at Suna as Osamu turns his attention back to Sakusa, "What do you say? We can't go back to Tokyo, but maybe...I don't know. Osaka's nice I hear. Lots of humans too."

Their mother grew up in Hyogo. They only visited her hometown once before her popularity skyrocketed and she bought them a home in Tokyo.

Atsumu looks down at the briefcase, thinking about how months ago, all he had were Bokuto and Hinata and the company of bedmates to keep him warm. He sneaks a glance at Suna scratching his nose, Osamu opening and closing his mouth and Sakusa's necklace glinting in the low light on his pale chest.

He could go back to Tokyo— it's his home. He has his group and someone ought to keep saving Hinata from one too many brushes from Cochlea, but Hinata often hangs out with the Adler's Kageyama nowadays, rolling his eyes when Atsumu accuses him of fraternizing with the enemy. And Bokuto has Akaashi.

Atsumu doesn't need to stay in Tokyo. He could get a phone plan and call them if he ever misses them. Everyday doesn't have to be full of pissing the CCG off when he has Samu to bully.

Sakusa looks up almost shyly, twisting and pouting his lips like he's being asked if he wants to join them for a game of hide and seek on a playground.

"...Okay."

Atsumu drags his black Anubis mask towards him, crumpling the metal and leather until the snout is pushed inside, folding the ears in and flatting it. The metal makes a weird snapping noise in his hands and it catches the attention of his other friends.

"Tsumu, what the hell are ya doin?'" Osamu asks, like he's not surprised Atsumu's doing something stupid.

Atsumu laughs, walking over to the curtains and jerking them apart, letting the morning sun make Sakusa's slouched back glow.

He extends a hand out until he's tracing a series of moles down Sakusa's neck, near the bumps of his vertebrae, looking into his eyes when Sakusa turns, the sun turning his eyes into a warm shade of dark brown.

"Nothing. 'S a beautiful day, huh?"

**Author's Note:**

> please remember to wash your hands and continue to wear masks while social distancing!
> 
> to everyone doing online school, i hope you're ok ٩(๑･ิᴗ･ิ)۶٩(･ิᴗ･ิ๑)۶


End file.
